Reaping What Was Sown
by thinktink2
Summary: Things have been set in motion, resulting in their present predicament. Part of the "Coming to Terms" world and takes place after "Living with the Decision."
1. Chapter 1

AN: In light of the current mood from that last episode it seemed appropriate to go ahead and post this. A continuation of the "Coming to Terms" series, taking place after "Living with the Decision." Will try to update once a week. As always, your thoughts are appreciated.

Also this whole story idea started out much funnier than what it may presently seem. It still has its moments, I suppose.

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"Excuse me?"

The woman at the desk glanced at her and held up her finger, indicating a moment. She turned her attention back to the conversation she was having with someone on the phone and Adalind shifted in agitation and said again, louder, "Excuse me!"

The woman gave her a look and spoke into the phone before pulling the receiver away from her mouth.

"Yes, can I help you?"

"I'm looking for my husband," she said, voice uneven.

"What's his name?"

"Adalind."

"Hank!" Adalind whirled from the information desk and ran over to him. "Where is he?"

"Ambulance is just pulling up. Adalind…it's bad," Hank warned, looking at her with soft concern and that scared her more than what he had just said. When was the last time Hank had looked at her with such empathy? They had gotten used to each other, and Hank was resigned and even accepting of the fact she was in Nick's life, and that for the long haul, but there had always been a note of distance in any of those friendly interactions, the subtle reminder that Hank remembered what she had done to him (and Nick); had twice tried to kill him all those years ago.

Adalind nodded numbly and looked around, searching for the doors that opened up to the ambulance bay, and spotted them on the other side of the information desk. She was having a hard time keeping her emotions under control. He was supposed to take care of all of them. He was the father, the real one as far as she was concerned, to _both_ her children. Her husband. That meant he wasn't supposed to get hurt, and especially seriously hurt. He was a Grimm for God's sake, and a good one, but she knew as well as anyone the number and types of Wesen that hunted and killed Grimm's. He was a cop, too, and she supposed, distantly, that if she was looking to be involved with someone who might be around for a long time then she probably couldn't have picked a worse candidate than Nick.

 _Til death do us part._ Death couldn't fucking part them six months into their marriage, she thought bitterly. She was always so greedy, but she wanted a lifetime with him. Thirty, forty, fifty years at least. Was that so wrong? Her children to grow into adulthood, have children of their own, with him still beside her.

She heard the doors bang open and then watched as a flurry of medical personnel rushed a gurney through the emergency area. She moved forward trying to get a look before they disappeared from view and then reeled back with a gasp.

Nick, as pale as death, unresponsive with an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth, head and body rolling and jerking with each jostle of the gurney. She registered voices, nurses and doctors calling out Nick's stats as they rolled him past, but none of it held any meaning to her. She was frozen on his face, her own heart stopping at the sight of him.

 _No._

Just, no. They had two beautiful children, and despite everything that they had done to one another, they were happy and content. He had promised to always be there to support Kelly and Diana, who he thought of like his own daughter, and this…this clearly flied in the face of that. They rolled him out of her sight, past the reception area and through a set of doors where they worked to save their emergent cases.

"Oh, my god. Nick," she whispered.

She stared, still trying to reconcile the sight she had just witnessed with her memory of Nick, tired from work but full of vitality and vigor as early as that morning, smiling and teasing her, eyes so alive and bright as they had looked at her, full of love, before kissing her goodbye, and planting a kiss on Kelly and Diana before he left them for work.

"What happened?" She heard herself say, and was aware that she had turned back to Hank, was going through the motions, the semblance of a functioning human being, but she felt anything but functional or human. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to literally hold herself together she supposed, and focused on what Hank was saying.

He was shaking his head.

"I'm not sure. Call came out, suspect spotted at a building in Northwest Portland. We arrived, went into the building and took fire. Suspect got the drop on a patrolman and turned and ran. Wu, Nick and I followed in pursuit. Suspect made it to the roof and jumped the building. Nick was the only one strong enough or brave enough, or maybe crazy enough, to make the jump. He jumped two more with Nick in pursuit. He followed while Wu and I and the other officers tried to cut him off before he jumped the next roof.

"Nick got ambushed," Hank told her. "I don't know what they did. He got the drop on three of them, I saw that, but I don't know, there were five or six of them; well trained, Wesen, I'm sure, but I couldn't see what type, and I think…I think they injected him or stabbed him, poisoned him with something. I couldn't see enough to get a clear shot from where I was, I'm not even sure if I could have made the shot from that far away. Adalind…I'm sorry."

She nodded dumbly. "It's not your fault," she said automatically, mulling over the information but it was too much for her mind to handle. He had pursued the suspect, even when doing so meant he lost his back up. Of course he did. The Grimm and the cop in him pushing him to follow, whatever it was, heedless of the danger he was so certain he could handle.

"Wu was first on scene on the roof. He was incoherent and losing blood fast. By the time I got to Nick he had already lost consciousness. He was—he was pretty bad. He was definitely having some type of reaction beyond a few stab wounds. He's been unresponsive ever since."

"Did Nick have any idea what kind of Wesen you were looking for?"

"He never said. The Wall I think was looking for the same thing. It seemed like there was some overlap with our case and something they were looking into. They might be able to tell us what we were after."

She nodded again and bit her lip, her mind circling round on his words. _He got ambushed. Stabbed him, poisoned him. Incoherent. Unresponsive ever since. Unresponsive ever since. Unresponsive ever since._

Nick couldn't leave her. He would have to be okay. He would have to be.

##########

She sat impatiently in the waiting area, chewing on her lip and glancing down the hall, where they had taken Nick for emergency surgery to repair his liver. One of the knife wounds had sliced into it. Another had punctured a lung. Two others had missed anything vital, though one was deep. The doctors were hesitant to say anything on his prognosis, just that his injuries were life threatening and they would know more perhaps when he was out of surgery. Hank was at the other end of the room, on the phone with Sean, updating him on Nick's status, and the case.

One of the nurses had brought her a cup of tea and to the surgical waiting room, and had promised to bring her an update on Nick in another hour if she hadn't heard anything. It had been two hours since they had wheeled Nick in, and in that time she had tried to keep it together, put on a brave face, as her life slowly fell apart.

She felt nauseous, and was reminded she hadn't eaten since breakfast. Didn't think she could swallow anything down anyway, but if she didn't she would most certainly be sick, and she couldn't afford to be anything but okay, not when Nick was anything _but_ okay.

Some crackers would probably help, some juice maybe. Something bland just to calm her stomach. She looked up when Hank approached, finished with his phone call and she plastered a fragile smile on her face, and felt it slide off a moment later.

"Did they catch him?" she asked, and Hank shook his head.

"Still looking. Captain's got every uniform in the city looking for our suspect." She nodded. Messing with Sean's Grimm, even though things had been so strained between them all in the last six months because of Diana and their battle for custody was not something he would take lightly. The decision on custody had long been decided and the details ironed out, but it had left a bad taste in everyone's mouths, and she didn't think Nick's and Sean's working relationship had quite recovered from it. Sean was still Sean, though, and he needed Nick, and he knew that.

"Monroe and Rosalee are on their way," Hank told her and she flashed a weak smile again and nodded.

"Can I get you anything," Hank asked after a long, painful silence.

 _My husband, safe and sound._

She shook her head. "No," she managed. "Thank you."

The nausea was still eating away at her, the nerves and stress feeding into it, but she stubbornly refused to acknowledge it any further.

"It's been two hours," Adalind said. "Shouldn't they be done by now?"

"Doctor said he had a puncture to the lung? And liver?"

"Yeah," Adalind said, "and two other punctures, but they didn't hit any organs."

"Might just be taking them a while," Hank offered, and they were both silent as they pondered the reason why.

"He has to be okay, Hank, he _has_ to be," she said suddenly, and he looked at her.

"He will. He's strong, he's a fighter. We're not going to let anything happen to him."

 _But you already did let something happen to him,_ she wanted to say. _And now he's lying on an operating table fighting for his life._

She shook her head and felt a sob rack her body when Hank awkwardly tried to comfort her. She had children with Nick, a son and a daughter who needed their father, like she needed her husband. He was so critical to his family, to their well-being.

The baby, growing inside her now.

She was going to give him another child. Already she was two months pregnant, with what was technically their second, but what she knew they would both consider to be their third child together. She had been so excited to discover she was pregnant again, not even two weeks ago, that she had hardly been able to contain it. She had almost called Nick up on the phone and blurted out the news as soon as she saw the result. Had decided she would surprise him, and had been searching for the right moment and time to share the news with him, wanting to make it special. More meaningful than when she dumped the fact she was already seven months pregnant with his son and needed his protection and his help and hadn't really given him any choice or time to come to grips with it, like she had with Kelly.

She thought he would be excited, happy to be able to experience everything with their new baby from the beginning, go to the doctor's appointments, see the sonograms, hear the heartbeat, find out the sex of the baby with her. He would love it, love her, love the fact that he would be a father again.

He had been tied up with a triple murder and then the Wall, gone until late in the night for nearly a week, exhausted and distracted, and she twisted her lips bitterly at the thought of Eve and that lot putting him at risk, when he was so obviously at risk everyday as a police officer and a Grimm.

Goddamn she loved him. She could not, _could not_ , lose him. Her baby needed its father. Her children needed their father, and she needed him. She knew he wasn't invincible, but he was capable, so much so that maybe they had all taken it for granted how vulnerable he really was.

"Hey, hey," Hank said softly, still trying to soothe her. "We just need to be strong for him right now, okay," and she nodded, another sob overtaking her.

 _You don't understand what's at stake if he doesn't survive_ , she thought.

"I know," she said instead, her voice barely a whisper.

"Adalind," Rosalee said, and Adalind looked up to find her friend striding quickly to her. Hank released her and stood, Monroe not far behind Rosalee and Adalind caught Rosalee's terrified eyes and began to weep uncontrollably.

"What happened?" Monroe asked Hank, watching as Rosalee embraced Adalind. She felt so very tired, as though she were hungover, and for a moment she just leaned heavily against Rosalee, letting her support her as the stress and worry over Nick poured out.

She heard Hank talk quietly with Monroe, felt Rosalee slide her hand over her hair. "It's going to be okay," Rosalee said. "It's Nick. He's going to be okay," Rosalee promised. "Have you heard anything," Rosalee asked her after Adalind had nodded and pulled away, and Adalind shook her head.

"They took him to surgery a couple of hours ago, but nothing since. They said he was…he was critical," she stuttered, "and his injuries were life-threatening, and that they would know more once he was out of surgery."

Rosalee nodded. "Okay," she said. "What do you know about his injuries?" she asked Hank, looking at him. "You said you thought he had been poisoned?"

Hank nodded. "He wasn't reacting to just some stab wounds. I mean, he was stabbed, multiple times," Hank said, and Adalind wanted to cover her ears. Instead she took a seat behind them, back on one of the chairs. "He wasn't hardly bleeding," Hank said, and Adalind glanced up in surprise. "Not like he should anyway, or you would expect someone with four stab wounds to."

"Did you get the weapon?" Monroe asked. "Was it a knife or something else?"

"I don't know. No weapon was recovered from the scene yet, but officers are still searching. We have a lot of area to cover. Suspect jumped three buildings with Nick in pursuit before he led him right into an ambush."

"Oh my god," Rosalee said, covering her mouth. She glanced at Adalind and took a seat next to her, wrapping her arm around her shoulder.

"No sign of the suspect you were pursuing?" Monroe said.

"No, by the time any of us reached the roof he was gone. Captain has every agency and officer in the city looking for him, but so far no leads."

"Wesen?" Rosalee asked and Hank shrugged and nodded.

"Yeah, pretty sure, but I don't know what kind and Nick never said so don't know if he figured it out until it was too late."

Too late. God, what if it was too late? Adalind bit her lip when she felt it tremble and Rosalee rubbed her arm.

"Hey," she said softly. "He's going to be okay, okay? We'll figure this out. Don't give up on him yet," and she nodded and shook her head again. No she wouldn't give up on him.

"I'm not," she said.

##########

She finished retching over the toilet and held the handle down to flush. She had waited too long. She should have eaten something, and she could hear Nick's voice in her head, admonishing her, telling her it wasn't good for the baby, that she needed to take better care of herself and their child. Her eyes burned and she choked down a sob. What she wouldn't give for that right now. He had had no opportunity, or hadn't cared enough, or had been to overwhelmed to be the worried father with their son. She had been well into her pregnancy by the time he discovered it, and he was still grappling with the fact it was his child she was carrying and how he felt about that. She thought he would take up the worried and protective expectant father easily, a natural fit for him, especially now that his feelings about her and a baby were much clearer.

He would drive her crazy, she suspected. She had already carried two children, but in many ways, this would be his first pregnancy. She wondered how this pregnancy would progress compared with the two she had already had. Diana's had been so painful, partly due to the contaminatio ritualis she had undergone, and her own inexperience with motherhood and not knowing what to expect. She had been terrified on more than one occasion about what was happening with her child, and her body. In retrospect, probably wouldn't try to regain her Hexenbiest powers while pregnant, but then, she had no intention of ever trying to regain them.

Kelly had been so different, so easy, considering she was carrying a Grimm's child. As they were natural enemies of one another, it seemed rather ironic that her body took so well to carrying Nick's baby, but she had had no problems with the pregnancy, no idea she was pregnant even, until Henrietta had told her. He had been every bit a _normal_ baby, no morning sickness, or weird food cravings, and giving his mother only fits when he kept her up at night with his furious kicking, which seemed to intensify those few times whenever Nick had been near her, or the occasional back pain and strain, and the urgency to pee every five minutes as they got closer to the end.

Things were so strained between them then that she doubted how well she would have taken any gesture of concern or desire to take part in the pregnancy from Nick. Surprised wouldn't have been the half of it, if he had suggested something of the sort. He had never touched her, or tried to touch her or make any other connection with the baby since that day in Renard's office when she had held his hand to their son, alive and well, and excited to hear his father's voice, as though he had known it was Nick and who Nick was.

She wondered now if he had had any desire to, or had been too repulsed or too scared to ask her if he could, or maybe just too busy still trying to wrap his head around the fact it was real and that she would bear him a son in a matter of weeks, not to mention everything else that had gone on. Probably the latter, and going from mortal enemies to sharing in raising a baby was a difficult transition to swallow, though he had done it. Over the weeks he had expressed general concern about her well-being, a blanket approach that included the welfare of their son, though he never specifically asked about the baby, until that fateful day when she had gone into labor and he had shown up at the hospital, looking out of place, overwhelmed, and as the labor progressed, worried for her and their child.

He had been there, when it had counted, despite whatever feelings he had had about her or their situation, and the baby. And once he had held Kelly, there had been no going back. He had loved his son from the moment he had laid eyes on him, held him in his arms for the longest time, a range of emotions flitting across his face, and Adalind thought something might be able to be had that they might get through it together without killing each other or trying to destroy each other.

"Adalind? Are you okay?"

Rosalee.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said. "Just needed a moment," she said after a pause, and stood up from the stall, sure Rosalee was wondering why she was sitting on the floor of the bathroom. She didn't know Adalind was pregnant again. She had lost her and Monroe's second baby in a miscarriage four months ago and had been devastated.

It seemed wrong, somehow, to mention her own baby growing inside her, pregnant so easily by Nick, while her friend mourned the loss of another baby. They had been trying for a long time, her and Monroe, to have a child of their own, and it didn't seem as though they were going to.

Besides, she still hadn't told Nick, and it was still early in the pregnancy, not even through the first trimester. Something could still happen.

She opened the stall door and gave her friend a watery smile, aware she was looking pale and sweaty. "Nerves finally got to me," she explained, and it had the benefit of at least being partially true. She turned on the water and splashed some on her face, feeling her stomach start to churn again and hoped she wouldn't betray herself with another hurried visit to the commode.

"I think maybe I just need a little something to eat," Adalind said, "maybe that would calm it, you think?" She met Rosalee's eyes through the mirror and looked away, splashing more water on her face. "Still nothing from the doctor," Adalind remarked.

"No," Rosalee agreed. "But maybe that's good news. He's still fighting," and Adalind nodded. True, had he—had it—she bit her lip again—if he had died then they probably all still wouldn't be here.

"He's got a lot to live for," Rosalee reminded her, and Adalind nodded.

"Yeah," she agreed with a whisper, "he does."

"Come on, we'll get something to eat," and Adalind shook her head. "I need to stay close, in case…" she trailed off and Rosalee nodded.

"I'll bring you something," she offered. "A sandwich?" _My prenatal vitamins_ , but she would have to do without for the time being.

Adalind shook her head, "Maybe just some crackers and some water. Something bland, I think."

"Okay," Rosalee said. "I'll see what I can find."

###########

Surprisingly, she was hungry. She devoured the sandwich and half of the soup, Rosalee had brought her. Sean had shown up with Wu about thirty minutes earlier and he and Hank had conferred quietly out in the hall while Wu took a seat across from Monroe and went through some of the same questions Monroe had with Hank. Adalind was so tired of hearing it all, and wished everyone would just shut up for a while. She didn't need to keep hearing about Nick getting stabbed, Nick being unresponsive, Nick looking so cold and dead lying on that gurney as they had rolled him into emergency.

She knew her emotions were heightened due to the surge in hormones from her pregnancy, but she honestly wished she could scream at everybody to just stop.

"Mrs. Burkhardt? I'm Dr. Javier," and Adalind looked up after a second when she realized they meant her. She was still getting used to the name change, and most everyone at her work still knew her and called her by her maiden name. Rarely did anyone she knew referred to Adalind by her married name, though perhaps because so few people knew who she was married to, and she realized the doctor standing before her was Nick's surgeon.

"Yes," Adalind said, slowly and shakily getting to her feet. Rosalee stood up beside her, and Hank and Sean quieted and came into the room, as Monroe and Wu closed ranks as well.

"Yes, I'm Mrs. Burkhardt," she said, taking a deep breath, and her voice sounded so far away she wondered if she was dreaming.

"I'm the surgeon who worked on your husband. We were able to repair his lung and his liver, and sew up his other two wounds." Adalind breathed out carefully. "Do you know what he was stabbed with?"

"We're not sure," Sean spoke up. "We've been unable to recover the weapon that was used," and the doctor nodded.

"The cuts were very smooth, similar to a knife, but not like any knife wound I've seen. While we were attempting to repair his wounds your husband's heart stopped for eight minutes," and Adalind sucked in another breath and reflexively grabbed a hold of Rosalee's arm, hands grasping at her sweater.

"We were able to resuscitate him, but he has not regained consciousness and we are concerned about an infection that appears to have started in one of the wounds," the surgeon continued.

"An infection?" Rosalee said in a trembling voice, "What kind of infection?"

"We haven't identified it yet, but we have him on IV antibiotics and he remains in critical condition."

"Can I see him?" Adalind whispered.

"He'll be wheeled down to intensive care in a few minutes. I'll have a nurse come get you when he's settled, and I'm afraid I'm going to have to limit the number of visitors to just yourself, and for ten minutes," Dr. Javier informed her, and she nodded numbly.

"What's his prognosis?" Hank asked.

"If he survives the night—" and Adalind jolted and stuttered. _If?_

"If?" Rosalee echoed, and distantly she was grateful to her friend for being able to put a voice to the jumble of emotions that were filling her mind, clogging her throat.

The doctor nodded gravely. "If he survives the night, and we can stop the infection from worsening and spreading…His chances will increase greatly and it's possible he could make a full recovery."

"Possible," Monroe said.

"We'll know more in the morning," the doctor said. "I'm on call until midnight, if you have any questions," and Adalind gave a stunned nod.

"Thank you, doctor," Sean said quietly and the doctor offered a tired smile and left. Adalind gasped shakily, trying to draw in a breath and became aware that everyone was crowding close around her in concern.

%%%%%%%%

"You can go in. He's under heavy sedation. There's a tube in his throat helping him to breathe, okay?" Adalind nodded and wiped the moisture from her face.

"Okay," she whispered, and the nurse patted her hand and gave her an encouraging smile. Adalind drifted slowly through the doorway, her eyes frozen on Nick. He had a dozen machines hooked up to him, including a ventilator. The tube was large, bigger than she expected it to be.

"Oh my god, Nick," she whimpered, reaching his side.

He still looked horrible, as dead as he had looked when he had first entered the hospital. There was a cut above his eye, and a bruise on his chin, but other than the pallor of his skin, there was nothing wrong with his face. She looked at his chest, heavily bandaged where he had been stabbed in the lung, and his side where they had sliced into his liver. There were two other bandages near the liver one where they had made contact with him. He was bruised heavily on his torso, where either the blows from his attackers landed, or from the stabbing itself. Probably a combination of the two.

"Nick," she whispered, and the tears that had been pooling at the corner of her eyes spilled over. "Nick, you have to wake up, you have to get better, okay? I need you, the kids need you. Please just open your eyes."

Of course he made no response, nothing, not even a flicker of eye movement.

She slid her hand over his, careful of the wires and tubes around it.

"Please, Nick. I need you. Wake up, please. I know I look great in black, but you can't make me a widow six months into our marriage," she whispered. "You promised me you spend a lifetime telling me how much you loved me, how much I mean to you, you have to be alive…and awake…to do that. I'm holding you to that promise, do you hear me?"

Again, nothing, and she ran her fingers over his, surprised how cool they felt under her touch. She noted with surprise he wasn't wearing his wedding ring, a staple of his everyday life since they had said their vows. The medical staff had probably removed it, along with everything else he was wearing and had on him, and she wondered absently where his gun and badge were, also staples of his everyday life, or at least as long as she had known him.

"Mrs. Burkhardt?" she had just slid her fingers between his when the nurse appeared. "I'm sorry, but we need to let him rest," she said and Adalind sniffed, and wiped her eyes with her other hands.

"Okay," she said, nodding. "I'm going to see you in a little bit, and when I do you're going to be awake, because I have some pretty important news to share and you have to be awake to appreciate it." She squeezed his fingers, hoping to feel something in the embrace but she was disappointed. She leaned over him, placed a kiss on his icy cheek, half-hoping this was some twisted version of sleeping beauty and she would awaken him with true love's kiss.

Of course he had the tube over his mouth, keeping her from being able to kiss his lips, so maybe that was why it didn't work.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: My offering to get us through the week since there's no eppy tonight.

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"So you married the Hexenbiest. Didn't see that one coming."

Nick turned and looked behind him. His mother was sitting on a trunk, hands on her knees watching him. He blinked and looked again.

"Mom?"

"What the hell were you thinking there?" His mother asked, raising her eyebrow, waiting on an answer. He stared at her, dumbfounded.

"You're dead," he said.

She shrugged. "Doesn't look like it, and anyway, does that excuse you for making the decision you did?"

"I saw your head…in a box…there's no way," he said again staring. "This is some kind of trick."

"Maybe it is and maybe it isn't. Doesn't matter. And this still doesn't answer my question. You and the Hexenbiest. What's going on there?"

"Am I dreaming?" Nick asked.

"Maybe," his mom shrugged again. "I've missed you, Nicky," she said with a sigh.

He was definitely dreaming. Had to be. Hallucinating. Did he get hit in the head? What had happened to him? There was no way this was really his mother. She was dead. You couldn't just reattach someone's head and suddenly they were reanimated again, though Diana had done something similar with Kelly's giraffe. But that was a toy, Nick reminded himself, and she had basically telekinetically resewn it back on. This was a real person. But, not really. She had been dead for years now.

"You're not here," Nick said. "I don't know what this is, but it's not really you, and I'm not going to participate in this…this farce or illusion or whatever it is."

"You want me to pinch you?" His mom asked with a smile and Nick glared. And then wondered why. She wasn't there, so why was he interacting or even acknowledging her? He looked around and suddenly the room he was in was gone and all that was left was endless white space. There was nothing else but his mother sitting on a large trunk and him and he looked back at her accusingly.

"Looks like we might be here a while," she observed. She pulled an apple out from somewhere, and a knife, and began to cut it into slices. "Want one?" she asked offering him a piece. He glared at her again. She popped it in her mouth when he didn't respond, and cut another slice.

"This isn't real," he said again.

"Sure. So if it's not real, then, what…you're talking to yourself?"

"No, I'm…I'm…I'm dreaming…I hit my head…" He said, although he wished with more confidence. He couldn't remember what had happened. He had been chasing someone? Yes?

"You'd have a bruise, right? Probably the size of a grapefruit if you're imagining your dead, beheaded, mother, right?"

"Yes, I—" he moved his hands around his scalp, feeling the back of his skull, the sides, front, all carefully. Nothing.

"It doesn't make sense," he said. "I'm not awake. I'm not."

"No, you're not," his mom agreed, and Nick thought _ha! I knew it!_ Then frowned.

"Then…what am I?"

"You're unconscious," she said, after a moment, looking at him, her face turning serious, and the apple and knife disappeared from her hands. She looked worried, an expression he didn't have much experiencing witnessing on his mother. She had always been in control, angry, maybe, or cool detachment, though never with him. The concern on her face concerned him, and he looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to elaborate.

"What happened?" he prompted.

She leaned forward, sliding her hands along the tops of her thighs, before clasping them together, forearms on her knees.

"You tell me," she replied, looking at him.

"If I could tell you, I wouldn't have to ask you," he bit out and then shook his head and stalked away from her. "This is nuts. You're not here!" he shouted. "I'm—I'm seeing things. Somebody drugged me, and this is not real. This is not real, so there's no point in talking to a hallucination. I'm just making it worse," he said to himself. "She's not real," he said.

He moved about the space, no doors or walls, yet somehow he knew where the parameters of the room lay, and he strolled about it, rubbing his hand over his chin, beard scratching against his fingers. "Not real," he said, again, trying hard to think what might have happened to him that he would be having conversations with his dead mother. He kept pacing, his mind blank, unable to summon any thoughts but of the woman in front of him.

"What's happening to me?" he asked her. She flattened her lips and stared back at him. His mouth twisted in annoyance when she made no reply. "Mom!"

"Oh, are you talking to me? Suddenly I'm here now?" She asked and Nick rolled his eyes.

"You're like my subconscious speaking," he said, trying to work it out. "That's why you're here."

"If I'm your subconscious, you clearly haven't been listening to a word I've said most of your adult life. Certainly in the last decade."

"You weren't in my adult life," Nick snapped. "If you wanted your words to have more weight, maybe you should have stuck around to _watch_ me reach adulthood," he finished, then rocked back on his heels. He understood why his mother had done what she had done. Knew she had sacrificed and maybe because of it he had lived long enough to see his present age, but that didn't mean he liked it, but he felt suddenly that he came off as an ungrateful and petulant child.

"I was always watching you. I had eyes on you," she said, and Nick cocked his head in confusion, before realizing she was most likely referring to his Aunt Marie.

"But maybe if I'd been so involved you wouldn't be in this mess," she agreed after a moment. "You wouldn't be friends with a Blutbad and a Fuchsbau and apparently half the Wesen community, and sleeping with a Hexenbiest, that's for sure."

Nick flushed a little. "She's a former Hexenbiest," he corrected, and his mother gave him a look. "She gave up her powers. For good."

"Yeah, I heard. That must have made it a little easier," she remarked knowingly and Nick looked away from her. There was no denying that. He was so in love with her now, though, that he wondered if it would even matter if she still was one. Maybe. Maybe they wouldn't even be at this point in their relationship if that was the case, but he didn't know. She had changed a lot in the last few years. The children she had borne, the things she had been through since then, because of them. She had given those powers up permanently for him, for what they had together, not wanting to risk it. He supposed it was a moot point now.

"She's different now," Nick said.

"What the hell possessed you to go that route?" his mom asked and Nick rolled his eyes and shoved his hands in his jeans pockets.

"It's a long story." He said dismissively not really wanting to get into it right at that moment.

"You going somewhere?" she asked, and waved about the space, still absent of any defined walls, or doors, or anything really. He sighed.

"So what made you marry the Hexenbiest? The one you insisted I take out of your house immediately when I brought her to you needing your help, and now you're just shacking up with her? I mean this is the same one who tried to kill Juliette, so what on earth brought that turnaround? You lose a bet?"

"No, a verfluchte zwillingsschwester," he said with another sigh, taking a seat across from his mother. He looked down underneath him and saw he was sitting on another old trunk like his mother. It hadn't been there two seconds ago. He looked up in confusion at his mother and she shrugged.

"An entwining twin curse?" his mother said, getting back to the topic at hand.

"Yeah," Nick said. His mother's eyebrows shot up impatiently.

"Going to need a little more detail, Nicky."

"Wait a second," Nick said. "Why are you even asking? I mean, you knew I married her? How'd you even know that? You've been dead for nearly three years!"

"Yeah," his mother said, eyes wide. "Grimm marries Hexenbiest. Big news here, surprisingly very little detail as to why or how it came about."

"Where's here?"

His mom waved her hand around, indicating their present location. He frowned and gave her a look. "That narrows it down, thanks."

"I'm just a figment of your imagination, according to you, remember."

"I don't know what you are," Nick replied tiredly. Whatever she was, she looked and sounded and acted exactly like his mother. If she was a memory or a hallucination, it was a good one, down to the last detail.

"Anyway, verfluchte zwillingsschwester. That's how you wound up married?" she asked, totally confused.

"It's the condensed version."

"How does an entwining twin curse equal a trip down the aisle? That doesn't make sense."

"Well," Nick shrugged. His mother frowned and narrowed her eyes.

"How about a little more expanded version?"

"Adalind cast the curse to take away my Grimm powers."

"What?" his mother demanded angrily. "Why?"

"Because we took away her daughter and let her think the royals had her, so she made a deal with them and took away my powers, thinking they would give Diana to her."

"And you were so grateful you married her for it?" his mother looked at him like he had two heads.

"No, not exactly," Nick said. His mother raised her eyebrow, watching him.

"To take away a Grimm's powers…and that kind of spell…would have required quite act to administer it. We're not talking a bolt from a crossbow type thing. She would have had to sleep with you."

"She did." Nick said. Great, nothing like discussing your sex life with your mom. "She uh, she made herself look like Juliette and let me think I was with her. By the time I had discovered what she had done my powers were already gone."

"That bitch," his mother said. "I'd say I hoped you killed her, but…"

"No, I didn't. Anyway, Renard's mother was able to recreate the spell and figured out the way to reverse it, basically doing everything Adalind did, except with Juliette looking like Adalind."

"Juliette? She was agreeable to this?"

"Not at first, but then, yeah, and it worked. I got my powers back and Juliette…Juliette found out there was a side effect to what we had done."

His mother watched him carefully. "There usually is," she said.

"She…turned into a Hexenbiest," Nick said, glancing up at her.

"What?!" His mother turned her head, eyes wide in surprise. She looked around them, eyes unseeing. She was quiet for a long moment before refocusing on Nick. "So if Juliette is a Hexenbiest, why isn't she the Hexenbiest you're married to? What happened?"

"Because…when Adalind slept with me…" he began, patting his hands in an alternate rhythm over his knees before continuing with a deep breath, "she got pregnant." His mother's eyebrows shot up, and she looked faintly like she might have swallowed something that tasted awful.

"Congratulations! You're a grandmother," Nick said brightly.

"Excuse me? Run that by me one more time."

"Adalind got pregnant with my son."

"You have a son," his mother said in a distant voice, staring at him.

"Yes," he said, still watching her carefully. "Juliette was, uh, not happy to find out what the spell had done to her, and even less so to find out what had resulted from what Adalind and I…had…done," he stuttered, though he hadn't exactly been a knowledgeable participant in it then. "She tried to kill Adalind while she was pregnant."

"I can imagine. The woman who ruined her life, tried to ruin yours. Gotta say, I can kind of see her side in this."

"Yeah, well, Adalind needed my protection from Juliette, and she knew of a way to try to fix Juliette, a suppression spell."

"Of course she did. Least she could offer having started all of it. Of course, the blood of Grimm wouldn't work."

"No, because of what I did to Adalind when I took her powers away, and then what she did to me, and then what we all did to undo it. Juliette wasn't going to stop until Adalind was dead."

"And you were okay with a woman you previously hated, who tried to kill your girlfriend, took away your powers and inadvertently turned that girlfriend into a Hexenbiest herself being pregnant with your child?"

"Well, it's not like I had much choice in the matter," Nick said. "I mean, she showed up at the station—pregnant—I mean, like seven months pregnant. No, okay? I wasn't okay. I was…speechless," he said, remembering. "And I didn't want anything to do with her, and I didn't want to help her. As far as I was concerned then she deserved everything she got because of what she did. But, the child was innocent in all this."

"Yes, that's true. I'm sure she knew that's how you would ultimately feel in all of this, and that's how she would convince you to help her."

"Maybe. I felt it," Nick said after a long pause. "I didn't want to, but she grabbed my hand, and I felt him kick," Nick said, smiling in memory. "He was just kicking up a storm, like, maybe he knew I was near." He remembered the pressure against his hand, how his son had responded to Nick's touch on his mother's abdomen. There had been nothing like it, that feeling. The knowledge that the life growing inside was his child. He had been overwhelmed by the realization. And then numb when he further realized whose child he shared it with.

"So Juliette took the suppression spell? It worked? For how long?" his mother asked, breaking his reverie.

"No. Juliette wasn't the least bit interested in being suppressed. Adalind tested the spell, and yeah, it worked. It suppressed her powers. We offered it to Juliette, but she destroyed it, and then she, uh, tried to turn my gun on Monroe. I just missed killing him. She went on a bit of a rampage after that. She tried to kill me, and she was responsible for you being killed," Nick said, emotion lodging in his throat. He looked at his mother, and she sat back, straightening and moved her mouth.

"She lured you to the house, sent you that email, and the royals—"

"I know," she said, and of course she did. They had killed her after all. The Verrat working for them. She would have realized who they were and who they worked for, and for what they were there.

"She was working for them to get back at me for everything that had happened to her." Nick said, twisting his wedding ring.

His mother nodded. She looked at his hands.

"And that had happened?" she asked.

"No, not yet." He said quietly. "Juliette handed Diana off to the royals, then came back to try to explain, or apologize, or just to kill me, I don't know, but Trubel shot her and, well, a whole bunch of other shit I guess really isn't important in the grand scheme of things. Adalind went into labor not too long after that, and we've been living together, raising Kelly ever since." He smiled tightly, waiting for his mother's response.

She was silent for long moment, digesting the information.

"Kelly?"

"Yeah, Kelly," Nick confirmed with a smile.

"You named your son after me."

"Adalind suggested the name," Nick said, and his mother nodded, looking away but not before he saw her eyes water. "You meant a lot to her, too," Nick said, and his mother glanced back at him in surprise.

"Really? Are you sure that's just what she wanted you to think?"

"You helped her escape with Diana, and died trying to save her."

His mother nodded, and sniffed, and he wondered if he reached out to try to comfort her, touch her, would her image fade away from him? He found he didn't want it to, so he kept his hands to himself, but he shifted uncomfortably as he restrained himself from the motion.

"And Diana, the royals got her?"

"Yeah, and then the resistance got her, and then we got her," Nick said, and his mother glanced up sharply.

"We?"

"Adalind and I," Nick said. "We finally found her. We got her back. She's been living with us now for about six months."

"The royals?"

"Mm, still a threat, but we're dealing with it as best we can."

"Diana…how is she, Nick?"

"She's…extraordinary," Nick said, searching for the right word. "She is. Her powers…they're amazing."

"Nick, you remember what I said about her," his mother began worriedly.

"I remember. Raised as normally as possible, we're doing our best." His mother looked at him, and he shifted uncomfortably again, wondering what the expression on her face meant. He didn't think it was approval.

"You told her about me," Nick said, perhaps to delay the judgment he felt was brewing. His mother got her emotions more under control and smiled briefly.

"I did. She told you?"

"She knew me," Nick said. "She sought me out at the compound where I found her. I kept wondering how and why she was so comfortable with me."

"She loved the picture of you," his mother said.

"The locket?" Nick asked.

"Yes. She showed you?"

"Yeah," Nick replied.

"I used to tell her stories about you growing up, and then you…later in life, as I knew you. She loved to hear about you."

Nick smiled. "She's my girl," Nick said, and he looked down at his hands again, and the platinum band he wore.

"And your son? Adalind had her powers, didn't she, when she got pregnant. Your son, you understand what he could be."

"I understand he's my son, and nothing's going to change that, and how I feel about him. We're aware of what he might become."

"Or be already."

"Yes. You didn't love Diana any less for what she was," Nick pointed out.

"She's not my daughter, and anyway, I didn't want that for you," she said. "Your relationship with the Hexenbiest—"

"Adalind," Nick said. "My wife," and his mother looked at him.

"—Your relationship with her…Nick, I know why you did what you did, you wanted to do the right thing for your son but I can't condone you having that kind of a relationship with her."

He sat back, feeling stunned. Sucker-punched. No, he supposed he hadn't expected her to jump for joy, given her reaction to Monroe and Rosalee, but then again, she seemed to come to accept them as his friends, and he supposed if nothing else, he had expected her to accept his decision to have a relationship with the mother of his child. Her grandchild.

"Why the hell not?" he said.

"How long were her powers suppressed?" his mother asked.

"Adalind's? Permanently. I told you, she's no longer a Hexenbiest."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm positive. She didn't want go back to the way she was before, how we were. She and Rosalee found a way to remove them permanently. We needed to do what was best for Kelly."

"Yeah, I guess that makes the excuse of sleeping with her easier to swallow," and he felt his face flush.

"We're married. It's perfectly natural for a husband and wife to have relations," Nick retorted stiffly. His mother gave him a look, perhaps realizing there was a rather large part of their relationship where they were unmarried and having relations.

"You're a Grimm!" his mother snapped. "She's a Hexenbiest! What you're doing is unnatural. You don't marry! It goes against everything your ancestors stood for."

"Well, you should know by now I don't follow the establishment," Nick said, and for the first time contemplated that despite being a cop, maybe he was more anti-establishment.

"Yeah," she said dryly, "I know. I guess it was only a natural leap from friends with a Fuchsbau and a Blutbad to sleeping with the enemy. I'm worried about you, Nicky."

"I'm thirty-six years old! I am more than capable of making my own decisions and I don't need your approval. Hell, you're dead," he snapped, "so whether or not you're okay with it is really sort of a non-issue. Adalind is my wife. She is the mother of my children, and the woman I am going to spend the rest of my life with."

"However long that might be."

Nick frowned, brought up short by his mother's comment.

"What does that mean?"

"Nick, have you thought about what you'll do if your son takes after his mother? How are you going to feel if your own son becomes something drastically different than you are? That you may have to hunt? Are you going to be able to protect him from other Grimms who might not be so open as you are to different kinds of Wesen?"

"He might be like you and me," Nick countered, and thought back to Eve's strange declaration a couple of years ago when she had first seen Kelly. _He's like you,_ she had said and had looked at Nick. He still wondered what she had meant.

"Then I would ask the same question: Are you going to be able to protect him? He's in a dangerous world, Nicky, doubly so because of what either of you might have passed down to him. I'm worried. I'm worried you might be forced to make a difficult choice, and it might just ruin you."

Nick swallowed, aware his mother was echoing thoughts he had considered ever since Kelly was born. _He's as much a part of you as he is me. I don't know if that's a good thing on either side._ He remembered he and Adalind saying. He wondered if he would ever be faced with the decision of having to give up his son, like his own mother had done. Or would he be able to raise his son like Rolek had done with Josh, well into adulthood, and his son never knowing of the Wesen world and Nick's part in it? Both seemed like impossibilities.

"Could you give him up?" his mother asked, and Nick looked down, unable to stand the concern in her eyes. "Could you give them both up?"

"I'm not giving them up," Nick said firmly. "You told me once don't leave the people you love, and I'm not going to."

"I don't want you to have to experience what I did…to have to make that choice, and you being involved with a Hexenbiest, even a former one as you say she is…Nick, she has ties to the royals with Diana. It's a huge risk for you. For your son. It's a huge risk to be a Grimm and have a family anyway, and this is…this is incredibly stupid."

He looked away, hurt by his mother's words. A part of him knew where she was coming from. The fear and worry, a mother concerned for her child. Someone who had been in the fight, and lost, a unique perspective he couldn't afford to ignore.

"I love her," Nick whispered, and he glanced up at his mother for understanding. "I know, maybe by the established rules, or even going by our history, I shouldn't, but I do. We've been through a lot together, and yeah, some of it because she set it in motion, and some of it because I did, but we just get one another. She gets it; she gets the world I'm living in. She's not a Kerhseiter; she understands the Wesen side, what my life is like, what her life is like because of it. It works for us. She's not a Hexenbiest anymore, and I know there's the possibility that Kelly could turn out like that, but…I don't care. He's still my son. What does it matter if he's Wesen? You clearly loved Diana," he pointed out.

"Yeah," she agreed softly. "I did. She was a good little girl, but she had tremendous power and she needed someone that understood how important it was that she had the right influence. Nick, you understand that you might have to make a difficult decision there with Diana if she is not under the right influences or starts abusing her powers. How do you think that would sit with Adalind? It's not going to be any easier for your relationship with her. You'll force a mother to choose her child, and she's going to choose her child, Nick. Not you. I just don't want to see you get hurt, Nicky."

"Good thing you're dead, then," Nick replied sarcastically. She gave him a look, not caring for the flippant retort. He looked away from her, still annoyed that he didn't have her support with his marriage to Adalind, and annoyed with himself that it mattered so much. She really hadn't been a part of his life in decades, certainly not a part of any decision making over the last twenty some years. Aunt Marie would have had more influence in that regard, not that he always listened to her. His friends had supported him, whatever the progression he had chosen to make with Adalind, though he knew they had various degrees of understanding as to why he chose to pursue a romantic relationship with her, particularly after all she had done.

He twisted the ring on his finger and caught his mother staring at it and stopped. What was done, was done. He didn't regret the decision to become romantically involved with Adalind, nor did he regret marrying her. His mother was dead. He was talking to a ghost, or an illusion, or if this really was his subconscious—well, obviously he had had some things churning in the background, needing some attention.

"Nick," she said, faltering, perhaps realizing her opinion on his love life had wedged something between them. "Tell me about your son," she said, and Nick met her eyes and looked away. He chewed on his lip for a few seconds. "Tell me about Kelly. What's my grandson like?"

 _His mother,_ he wanted to say. _Whom I love, and you, apparently, hate._ Though that really wasn't a surprise for anyone who had known Adalind as she was as a Hexenbiest, he guessed.

He sighed and looked around the room again, noting with surprise that he thought he could make out the outline of a wall. It hadn't been there a moment ago. He moved away from his mother, hurriedly approaching what appeared to be a white (of course) wall, but it was definitely a defined barrier, not the seemingly endless space he had been in moments before. He ran his hand over it. It was solid, and he knocked against it experimentally.

He looked back at his mother, still seated on the trunk, that worried expression on her face again.

"That wasn't there just a minute ago," Nick said. She looked at what he was pointing to and shrugged. Nick turned back to the wall and ran his eyes over it again, the detective in him needing to solve the mystery. "You're not concerned about where we are?"

"Why would I be concerned? What does it matter? According to you I'm not really here, anyway, remember?"

Nick sighed.

"Kelly," she prompted.

Nick waved his hand in annoyance, glanced at the wall and took a seat again near the window.

His head shot up, and he stood suddenly as he looked at it. He peered out the panes and but nothing was visible beyond it. He looked to his left, where the wall met with the window at a right angle and realized he now had two defined parameters of their space. He looked around at what should have been the other two segments of the room, or building, or wherever they were at, or what he was imagining but the endless white still met his gaze.

He sat back down, face scrunched in confusion. What the hell was happening? He needed to find out what had happened to him. His subconscious might be trying to tell him something. He glanced at his mother, who raised her eyebrows impatiently.

Or wanting him to tell her something.

"He just turned two a few months ago," Nick said slowly, distractedly recounting factoids about his son as he pondered this new conundrum. "He's living up to the terrible twos moniker like it's a personal motto of his. I guess he's like any normal toddler. He loves his mommy and daddy and sissy, though they seem to have a sort of love/hate relationship most of the time," _not unlike their parents did,_ he thought, _"_ he loves going to the park and playing on the slide—he can spend hours going up and down it. He loves to come see me down at the station. He's really smart, too. Dr. Ansheimler says he's very advanced for his age. Adalind says he looks like me—everybody says he looks like me, so I guess he must—but I don't know, I think he looks more like you. He's constantly in motion, always bouncing off the walls of the house and the center of attention, unless he's asleep. Basically a hellion. Actually, he's a really good kid," Nick said.

"Sounds a lot like you," his mom said. Nick smiled briefly.

"Actually, I think he takes after Adalind quite a bit in personality."

"Hm."

"You know, you can act all disappointed, but I think you liked Adalind a little." Nick said.

"She's got some chutzpah," his mother acknowledged. "Let me be clear: I don't condone what she did to you or Juliette," she warned. "I'm not sure I condone what you're both doing now, but yeah…I saw a little bit of myself in her when I was a young mother."

Nick sighed. "Look I realize I'm probably never going to have your blessing, especially since you're dead, but let's just agree to disagree and get over the fact that I'm in a relationship with her."

"You'd be better off giving her up."

"You sound like Aunt Marie," Nick said, and his mother smiled. "She told me I needed to give up Juliette."

"And you didn't," his mother stated. _Yeah, and look how that turned out,_ he thought. Perhaps if he had, his mother might still be alive. It was a sobering thought, that all that had happened might have been prevented had he listened to his aunt all those years ago.

But if he had, would he have had Kelly?

Doubtful, since Adalind fell into his orbit and stayed there largely because of what she did to Juliette to get at him. And she wouldn't have been so determined to hurt Juliette if he hadn't taken her powers away. And he had taken her powers away when it finally became apparent that trying to kill various people he was close to needed to be stopped, once and for all. Though it hadn't stopped her; it had only intensified it, made it personal, where before it was merely a job, a favor to Renard. There had been nothing more personal than his relationship with Juliette.

It was dumbfounding to think how much of the pain and suffering he had endured in the last seven and half years could have been avoided if he had taken his aunt's advice.

How he might not be married to the unlikeliest of wives with two beautiful children, and happy, for the first time in a long time.

"Would you change anything about your life?" he asked suddenly. "If you could go back, do it again, and change one thing, would you?"

"You mean like ignoring an email from your former girlfriend?"

"Yeah," Nick said, not amused. "You said you had a lot of regrets," he reminded her, and she looked at him for a long moment and nodded.

"You mean, would I make the choice not to give you up?"

"Not that, necessarily," Nick said, though yes that, he admitted, curious.

"No, maybe with the benefit of hindsight, I would still make that choice. It was the right one," she added when she saw his expression before he carefully schooled it into something more neutral. "You're thirty-six years old, remember, and a father to your own son. I don't know if I had made a different decision if you would have lived long enough to see that."

"Would you have listened to your Aunt Marie, if by leaving Juliette it would have meant I lived, but you never would have had your son. Can you imagine your life without him?"

He shook his head. He was dimly aware of his life before Kelly. How Kelly had anchored him, how unmoored he had been without that child, how unfulfilled his life was. He had had work, and being a Grimm, and Juliette, but not much else, and even that relationship he could not honestly classify as fulfilling.

He looked around staring at the wall behind his mother and did another double take when he realized there was, indeed, a wall behind his mother. Another white-washed wall, but a wall nonetheless.

"What is going on?" he muttered. His mother glanced behind her at what he was staring at. She looked back at him, that neutral expression tinged with faint worry. He stared at her, eyes searching.

"Do you know what's going on? Why we're here? Where we're at?"

"Not real," she replied dispassionately and he frowned in annoyance and stood from his spot by the window.

"Are you?" he asked, mostly to himself but she narrowed her eyes at him and watched him approach warily. Of course, she wasn't real, he told himself. No matter how good the likeness his memory had brought forth of his mother, it didn't change the fact she had been dead for three years, and that no amount of witchcraft or magic could reattach her head and reanimate her, and even if it could nothing good could become of it.

Still it didn't stop him from drifting closer, his hand out before him and she shook her head to discourage him.

"Nick," she said warningly. "Don't."

Don't. Didn't that seem a strange command from his mother? Wouldn't she want a moment to hold her son? Hug him. Why wouldn't he want that moment with her? Why discourage him? Would she fade away?

His hand shot out to touch her shoulder and she stood, neatly avoiding him. He furrowed his brow at her incredulously.

"You know what's going on. You do!" he exclaimed. "Would you care to share it with me?" he demanded.

"Nick," she said again, eyes pained. She moved away from him and he followed her movement with his head and reeled back when he discovered a doorway behind her, the last side of the room filled in. He moved forward towards it and she moved away from it, and him, over by where the first wall had appeared. He stood near the doorway, but nothing was visible beyond, though instead of endless white space, there was endless black and he twisted his lips in consternation. He turned to look back at his mother and jerked, startled.

There were about half a dozen people surrounding what appeared to be a hospital bed. His mother stared down at it, and he saw her swallow with difficulty, before she realized he was watching her. He stepped haltingly towards her, and she shook her head, his eyes widening again, and he moved quicker, the people, nurses and doctors he could make out now, avoided him as they worked on their patient.

"Adalind," he whispered, fear seizing him, terrified of what he might see when he got to the foot of the bed. _It's a dream, it's not real. It's a dream, it's not real._

Except it wasn't Adalind, they were working to save. It was him.

%%%%%%%%%

"Is—that's—what happened?" Nick stuttered. He looked up at his mother, who was standing by the head of the bed gazing down at him, the other him, the one lying there, with such an expression of grief on her face that he felt his heart seize and then he gasped when that made him aware his heart _had_ seized. He placed a hand over his chest and noted with horror that he didn't feel it beating inside his chest. He looked back at the—at him—lying on the gurney, and then his mother, who raised her head and met his eyes.

"Am I—I'm—I'm?" he said, and _Christ! Was he having an out of body experience? Was he dead?_

He had been dead, sort of, before. He remembered it being nothing like this.

"I'm dead?" he managed to say quietly and she stared back wordlessly.

Or course he was. Why else would she be here, then? It all made sense.

Except it didn't.

He drifted around the bed, activity still fluttering all around him, but the medical staff worked around him as he moved into their way. His eyes ran over the body on the bed, his, he reminded himself, and he began cataloguing what he saw there with his detective's mind, as though he were studying a crime scene.

He was deathly pale, and then huffed a silent hysterical laugh at the irony.

He had what appeared to be four wounds to his torso, and he was almost sick when something flashed across his eyes—a memory—and his mind darted away from it so quickly he had no time to process it. He moved his observations north, to his face, where a breathing tube was stuffed down his throat and a bruise adorned his chin, along with a cut above his eye. If not for how bloodless he looked, and the injuries to his torso he would have thought everything was fine. A normal day at the office.

Except he was clearly at the hospital.

Dead.

They were going to tell his wife, his wife of six months, he was dead.

She would kill him for dying on her so early in the marriage.

If he wasn't already dead, he meant.

He sobered. Adalind. She would be heartbroken. His children. He felt his lifeless heart break.

His eyes darted back to his mother, her gaze on the body in the bed, looking over her son, and he couldn't imagine her thoughts.

Didn't have to, as he was consumed with his own. He would never see Kelly again. His beautiful son whom he would never hold again. He would grow up without his father. Nick had lost his father at twelve. Could hardly picture him now after nearly twenty-five years. Kelly would most likely have no memory of Nick, being so young when he lost him. Just stories that Hank and Monroe and Rosalee would tell.

And Adalind.

Diana—yet another person taken away from her, and he wondered how she would handle the loss. She technically still had her father, perhaps she would bear it better than he thought, though he didn't think so. She was very much attached to him. He, her.

He bit his lip to keep it from trembling.

Adalind.

He realized his mother was watching him, the him standing over the bed, not the one in it and he looked at her and felt his eyes burn. She was looking at him with such sympathy. He looked away, down at the bed, and then away from the sight that met him there.

"I never wanted this for you," His mother whispered and he nodded.

"I'm dead," he said.

"Almost."

%%%%%%%


	3. Chapter 3

AN: It should go without saying I took some medical liberties here, but, there. I said it anyway. I have no idea on any proper/technical medical technique. Please forgive those inaccuracies and/or liberties.

%%%%%%%%

"There's been no change in status."

"Is that-that good?" Adalind asked. She looked at Nick, small and unimposing under a myriad of tubes and wires he was connected to. He had taken a turn for the worse hours into the night, and his heart had failed, stopped for a full eleven minutes this time before they had resuscitated him and put him on life support. She was moderately reassured by the slow and steady beep of his heart as it pulsed for the monitor, but otherwise there wasn't much to cling to. He still looked dead, and he had yet to show any signs of hope of regaining consciousness. Worse still the infection had spread, and now all four stab wounds were festering with it. The doctors had changed his antibiotic treatment and were waiting to see what effect it had.

"It's not bad," the doctor said. "No gains but no setbacks either. He's holding his own," and Adalind nodded. It was all she had, and it wasn't much. His prognosis was grim, and there was an impending discussion with the medical team in a few hours as to how long to keep him on life support if he didn't show signs of improvement.

"Can I sit with him for a little while? Is he allowed to have visitors?"

Dr. Javier nodded. "You can stay with him for a little bit. One of the nurses will come by and check his vitals in a while."

"Thank you," Adalind said and watched him walk away. She turned back to Nick. She pulled a chair closer to the bed and slowly took a seat. She listened to the hiss of the ventilator interposed with the beeps of the heart monitor, the hum of machines. She looked at his face, sallow and sunken, bones already seeming more prominent.

She took in a shaky breath.

"We have a thing for hospitals in our history, don't we? I mean the first time we really met was in a hospital," she noted, trying for a conversational tone. "I tried to poison your Aunt Marie, you tried to stop me and got poisoned yourself. Kind of set the tone for the next few years didn't it?" She stopped and chewed on her lip.

"It's quiet in here," she said. "Even with all the machines, it's…" she trailed off.

"You sat in my hospital room all night after Kelly was born. You remember that? I was terrified someone would come in the middle of the night and take him, so you said you sit and keep watch over us. I can imagine there were probably a hundred other places you would have rather been—asleep in your own bed, for one—but you stayed awake all night and protected us.

"Remember when you held Kelly that first time? The look—" and her voice broke and she bent her head down, hair falling around her face. "The look on your face," she managed to get out. It had been love at first sight for Nick once he held his son. The expression of wonder and awe at the tiny being he held in his hands; the look he gave Adalind when she had suggested his name.

"Goddammit," she whispered. "Nick, you can't do this to me."

"How's our patient doing?" Adalind jumped at the unexpected voice. A nurse in pink scrubs strolled in with tablet. She took some readings off some of the machines and entered them into her computer. She glanced up at Adalind and offered a friendly smile. "How are you doing?"

"Better than him," Adalind replied, and the nurse nodded.

"You get any sleep?" and Adalind shook her head. She had refused to leave the hospital until he awakened. Had only caught a nap in the waiting room, and not by choice. The worry over Nick and exhaustion from her pregnancy had caught up with her and she had fallen asleep against Monroe. Rosalee had gone home to pick up Kelly and Diana, being the only one besides Nick and Adalind who was cleared with the daycare to pick up both children, and she had spent the night with them. Adalind figured she had slept for maybe forty minutes when she had received the word his heart had stopped and they had had to revive him. After that she couldn't and didn't dare sleep for fear he would slip away in the night for good. That had been six hours ago.

"You need to get some rest," and Adalind stubbornly shook her head.

"I'm not leaving him alone."

The nurse looked at her and then set her tablet on the bed table next to her. She pulled the sheet back from Nick's chest and began to change the bandages over his wounds. Adalind watched her quietly, glad for something else to focus on rather than her thoughts.

The nurse removed the bandage on his chest, that had damaged his lung and Adalind gasped. Black tendrils were snaked around the wound, which was red and inflamed. The nurse frowned, prepared a new bandage and a topical ointment and placed it over the wound.

"Are all the wounds like that?" Adalind asked, standing and hovering over Nick. The nurse glanced up at her.

"We've got him on some heavy duty antibiotics to help combat the infect—"

"Are all the wounds like that?" Adalind interrupted.

"He's under round the clock care and Dr—"

"Never mind," Adalind muttered and started removing the bandage where he had been stabbed in the liver.

"Hey!" the nurse exclaimed, hurrying round to Adalind's side of the bed.

She ripped the bandage away, heedless of any pain it might cause Nick, would welcome a response from him to the pain compared to the lifelessness on display now, and sucked in a breath. Inky black tendrils surrounded the wound there. The nurse reached for her as she pulled another bandage away and found the same thing. Knew before the nurse finished with the other one what she would see there, too.

She swallowed a lump of emotion and stared at Nick until her eyes blurred.

"We're doing everything we can to help your husband," she said, trying to soothe Adalind. Adalind backed away from her and the bed, shaking her head.

"You can't help him."

%%%%%%%%%%

"You're sure?" Monroe said, hands on her forearms, steadying her.

"I know what I saw," Adalind stated in a hoarse whisper. She felt sick, though this time it wasn't just from pregnancy. She had recognized the black tendrils around the wounds. Knew what they indicated, and what they indicated wasn't good.

"I need to sit down," Adalind said, and Monroe nodded and helped her to a seat. She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. She couldn't help Nick if she couldn't get herself under control.

"Hank and Rosalee are on their way," Monroe told her and she nodded. "We probably have a few minutes," he said, and she looked up. She needed to eat, and she could use some coffee or something to keep her awake. It didn't look like sleep would be anytime in her future.

"We could go down to the cafeteria and get something," Adalind ventured, turning her head in the direction of where Nick lay hovering near death in intensive care. "We'll just hurry," she said, and Monroe nodded.

%%%%%%%%

"You're sure?"

"Positive," she said with a sigh. "I know what I saw, Sean." Sean had a look of worry on his face as he pressed his lips together. He nodded after a moment. He had shown up with Hank and Wu while they were still waiting on Rosalee. Then again she had to load two children into a car, which could be a process in itself, and not a fast one with a two-year-old and a seven-year-old. Hank glanced at Monroe and Wu and then Adalind.

"Someone want to explain the significance to the rest of us?"

"The black tendrils-"

"Hey, I got here as fast as I could," Rosalee interrupted, carrying what looked like a cried out Kelly and a solemn Diana walking beside her. Diana took a seat in the chair behind Adalind, swinging her legs over the side. Rosalee shifted Kelly on her hip, already so big months after his second birthday. He looked more and more like Nick every day, she thought, his hair once a few shades darker than her own, now only a few shades lighter than Nick's. He had his father's eyes, too, and they met hers, George firmly lodge against his mouth.

Adalind held out her hands for him, reflexively needing the comfort he brought her as much as Kelly needed hers. Rosalee passed him too her and Adalind held him tight, Kelly resting his cheek on her shoulder. She looked back at Diana, and moved back to take a seat beside her, running a hand through Diana's blonde hair.

"Where's daddy?" she asked, and Kelly turned to look at her. She saw Rosalee, Monroe, and everyone exchange looks. She had asked Rosalee not to let them know how bad Nick was, but Diana had surely noticed he hadn't come home last night, and neither had Adalind.

"He's sick," Adalind said, "and he needs special medicine, so he's here to get better." _I hope._ Diana stared at her for a long moment, a haze of lilac visible in her eyes. "Watch your brother for a few minutes while I talk to Aunt Rosalee and everyone," Adalind added, and set Kelly beside Diana.

"I want to see daddy," she said.

"He's sleeping," Adalind replied. "When he wakes up," she managed and turned away. _Nick, you'd better wake up._

They moved to a corner of the waiting room away from the children. Sean had an unreadable look on his face, probably from his dislike of hearing Diana so easily relate Nick as her father. He had not gotten more out of the custody agreement than they had originally offered, but thought he agreed to it, he still seemed upset that Diana primarily lived with her and Nick, and that she essentially associated Nick as her father, and refused to address or refer to Nick as anything else. Nick probably didn't help by catering to it, either, but after initially expressing discomfort about Diana addressing him as such he had completely changed his opinion about how he felt as being seen by her as her dad. He doted on her, and as a result she was definitely developing into what one might call a daddy's girl.

"What's new? You've seen Nick?" Rosalee asked, bringing Adalind back to the topic at hand.

"Yeah," Adalind said. "There's no change. He's on a ventilator," she continued but had to stop for a moment to settle her emotions. She could hear Kelly talking to Diana, asking her questions about _daddy._

"The nurse came to check on his vitals and change his bandages and I saw the wounds," and she had to stop again, remembering those black, inky tendrils curling out from the wounds, under the skin. "There were tod ranken coming from them."

"What?" Rosalee gasped, and Adalind met her eyes. "Are you sure?"

"I know what I saw," Adalind said.

"Uhh, what are tod ranken?" Wu interrupted.

"Literally, death tendrils," Monroe said, and Hank looked at him.

"Death tendrils? That…doesn't sound good."

"It's not," Adalind said. "Most likely the Wesen he was chasing was a Stachelig Qualle. They have large, spiky tendrils. He most likely impaled Nick with several of them. They inject a poison; it makes the blood in the veins look black almost. It's excruciating and it usually causes death within a few days. Once the tendrils reach the heart there's no more hope, but…" and she broke off as a wave of emotion took her. Rosalee picked up where she left off.

"But, the victim's heart usually goes out long before the tendrils reach it. The tax on the body usually causes the heart to stop several times, until it finally gives out altogether," Rosalee finished looking at Adalind with such concern that Adalind had to look away. She looked back at her children and saw Diana watching them carefully. She plastered a smile on her face and turned back to the group.

"And Nick's has given out twice," Sean said quietly.

Adalind nodded.

"Do we know for sure if it will be that bad? I mean Nick's a Grimm," Wu pointed out.

"Because he's a Grimm, it's highly likely it will be much worse," Adalind said.

"Are you sure?"

"They don't react to things the same way Wesen do, or you or Hank would do," Rosalee said.

"Trust us on that," Hank said. "He still has some lingering effects from the whole zombie apocalypse thing."

"What are you talking about?" Adalind said.

"Nick was infected by a Cracher-Mortel toxin a few years ago," Rosalee explained.

"What?"

"Eric decided he would steal Nick. He hired a Cracher-Mortel to immobilize Nick so he could transport him back to Austria." Sean said, and Adalind looked at him with dawning realization.

"That's why Eric's dead?"

"One of the reasons."

"It turns the—" Monroe said.

"I know what it does," Adalind interrupted. "What did it do to him?" she demanded curiously.

"Well, let's see," Monroe began. "He apparently busted out of the steel coffin he was in, brought down the plane he was on, and survived the crash. Then he climbed out of the wreckage to go start a bar fight with forty other patrons that he won, soundly, including killing a man, and then went on to terrorize a nice young family who made the mistake of coming home and attracting Nick's attention, and _then_ he administered and endured a nice beat down by all of us truly before we were finally able to inject him with an antidote."

"Wow," Adalind said, stunned. Nick had killed a Kehrseite? "You said he still has lingering effects? What effects?"

"Juliette—" Rosalee faltered. It was still hard to think of her as that, when she had so wholly embraced her Eve resurrection. "She said he would get really cold, and have no pulse, and no color to his face. And his heart rate stayed constant usually no matter what he was doing. Apparently it happens infrequently, like if he holds his breath sometimes, but I'm not really sure what all triggers it."

She had noticed his heartbeat rarely increased with strenuous activity. Occasionally if they got really freaky in bed she could detect a change in heart rate, but it usually returned to normal quickly. She couldn't recall experiencing any of the other symptoms with Nick. Adalind thought back to the pallor of his skin and wondered if these supposed lingering effects of the Cracher-Mortel toxin were competing with the Stachelig Qualle's tod ranken. If that was the case, it would make trying to stop it that much harder. Then again, the tod ranken was serious enough on its own to be causing all of Nick's current problems.

"Is there anything we can do to stop the tod ranken?" Hank asked.

"Maybe," Adalind said. "I don't know. It seems like I read somewhere, a long time ago, of an antidote or a potion or paste…"

"We can search for it at the spice shop," Rosalee said. "I think there was a paste," she said, and everyone looked noticeably brighter armed with this possibility.

"It might be in the Grimm books, too," Hank mentioned. "Stachelig Qualle?" he asked Adalind and she nodded.

"I'll see if my mother can find anything in her books," Sean offered and Adalind met his eyes in surprise. "I can take Diana so you can focus on Nick." Adalind shook her head reflexively. She had only grudgingly agreed to the visitation minimally outlined approved by the court, largely in part because Nick was so insistent upon it. Perhaps because as a police officer he was expected to uphold the law, and by extension, any court order such as their custody agreement. Not to mention she was a lawyer, and between the two of them (three if one included Sean) it was expected that they could and would uphold and follow the direction given.

To a point, Adalind thought, anyway, thinking of several instances she knew of where Nick hadn't exactly been the strictly law-abiding cop she had once thought he was. She definitely hadn't been that way for a large portion of their history together, and frankly Sean was even more devious than both Adalind and Nick combined.

They were currently the only ones right now in the intensive care waiting room, but there had been other patrons with her throughout the night and morning and someone was probably due back. Diana could be a handful if she was angry or fearful, and truthfully Adalind was at the limit of what she could handle at the moment. Rosalee and Monroe would be busy trying to find an antidote for Nick, and right now that was the most important thing. They needed to save Nick. He needed to be alive in order to continue the fight over Diana with Renard. She doubted she could ever fully trust Sean again after he had tricked her and taken her daughter away from her. She had known too long what he was about, and it hadn't been the first time he had let her believe one thing only to cruelly pull the rug out from under her.

"You'll be busy, too, trying to catch whoever did this."

"My mother can—"

"No," Adalind said, and Sean frowned in annoyance.

"Why does everything have to be a fight with you?" he asked. "Nick is lying on a bed dying and you're still arguing with me about Diana."

"He is _not_ dying. He's not going to die!" she said and shushed immediately, aware of the two pairs of eyes looking at her worriedly, Diana sliding off her seat. Kelly might not understand what exactly she was saying, but Diana could probably figure it out. She didn't need to get her children upset.

"Adalind," Rosalee said quietly, and Adalind glanced at her friend. "It would give you some time with Nick. They won't be able to go in with him, even if you wanted them to, and I know you don't want them to see him like that," she reminded and Adalind nodded slowly. "He can watch Diana until we figure out the antidote."

"Come, Diana," Sean said, holding out his hand, but Diana shook her head and took a step back.

"I don't want to go," Diana said loudly, and her eyes electrified with the haloed glow. The lights in the waiting room flickered and popped, and Adalind was seized with the fear that she might blow the electricity out, risking not only Nick's life, but countless others who were needing or receiving treatment. She didn't know if her powers would blowout a backup generator but she couldn't afford to risk it. "I wanna stay here and see daddy."

"Diana," Sean said warningly, "Come on. I will take you to your grandmother's and you can see Nick when he's better, okay?" The eyes illuminated defiantly but Sean stared her down unimpressed, and there was a moment where it became clear where Diana was debating how much she could push her father.

Nick was always so good at getting her to behave, Adalind thought. She rarely tried him, though she tested her boundaries on occasion with her, and, apparently, Sean, and seemed to get bolder each time.

"Diana," Adalind said, kneeling down and Kelly came to stand by his sister. "I need you to go with your father, for just a little while, while Daddy sleeps and mommy takes care of some things, okay. He'll bring you back tonight," Adalind said, and Sean frowned again, but he said nothing.

"Can I see daddy then?"

Adalind bit her lip. "If he's awake then. He needs lots and lots of rest to get better."

"We can drop Kelly off at the daycare on our way to the spice shop," Rosalee offered, and Adalind nodded gratefully.

%%%%%%%%

God it was so quiet in his room. Nothing but the sound of the ventilator pumping air in and out of Nick's lungs, and her thoughts. She wished she still had someone with her, but Hank and Wu and Rosalee and Monroe were researching, and Sean was…doing whatever Sean did during the day. Meetings with the mayor, press conferences, power plays.

She wished she was helping them, it felt more proactive than just sitting there beside Nick, watching him slip further and further away from her. He still looked so pale. Ghastly.

She wondered how many more times his heart could hold out against the onslaught his body would take as the tod ranken spread towards his heart. He was a Grimm, so he would normally have more strength and resistance against its affects than a Wesen, but that wasn't saying much. It was a powerful concoction and incredibly painful, and his body's ability to resist its effects would only prolong his agony.

"Just keep hanging on, please," she whispered.

"If anyone can figure out the cure it's the scoobies," Adalind added, and wished she was with them, searching for it herself, instead of sitting here helpless beside Nick, listening to machines work his heart and lungs.

"Not very good at just sitting here, letting things happen to me, you know," she said into the silence that had settled. "Watching you fade away from me. I would do better if I were with them, helping them. But," she said, voice catching, "I'm afraid if I do that that you'll slip away on me again," she got out, thinking of his heart stopping earlier when she had fallen asleep. "So Rosalee and Monroe and everyone, they're in charge of finding the cure, and I'm in charge of keeping you alive long enough for them to administer it," she said with a jerky nod.

Somehow she thought the scoobies had the easier task.

%%%%%%%

"Mrs. Burkhardt?" Adalind looked up from her blank study of her nails. It took a moment for awareness to register. She was sitting in the intensive care wait room, trying to stay awake and stay focused, but her mind kept drifting, and she thought she may have fell into a light doze at some point.

"Yes?" she said after a moment and looked at what one of the nurses was holding out to her. A bag, filled with various articles, clothes she could see; shoes.

"These are your husband's affects that they took off of him down in emergency."

"Oh," Adalind said, and hesitantly reached a hand for it. The nurse gave her a sympathetic smile as she left and Adalind pulled the bag close to her body. She peered down into it, noting his work boots, the scuffed and worn leather dotted with a couple of faint drops of dried blood, but it was old blood, from a crime scene or incident long before this one. She pulled them out of the bag and set them on the seat next to her, and rifled through the rest of the contents.

His jeans and jacket, ruined from where they cut the material off of him, and some pools of dried blood where he had been impaled, but, as Hank had noted, not as much as there should have been from four stab wounds. His badge, keys, and cell phone, but his gun was missing, though the holster was among his belongings. Perhaps it had been knocked out of his hands in the fighting? Wallet she found after a little more digging. Watch, and his wedding ring. She slid it over her thumb, still too large for the appendage, before sliding it off again, and unclasping the necklace she wore. She slid his ring onto the chain and re-clasped it around her neck, the metal cold against her skin.

She replaced everything back into the bag, preparing to set it beside her for Rosalee or Hank to take back with them when Nick's cell phone rang. She hesitated, a moment of indecision, before digging through the contents again to retrieve it.

It was on its fourth ring by the time she reached it, and she slid her thumb across the answer button on the screen and uttered a timid, "hello?" followed by a slightly more authoritative "Nick Burkhardt's phone."

"Adalind?" Eve's dull voice filtered through and Adalind stifled a groan, and rubbed her forehead.

"Yes?" she replied testily, wishing she had just let it go to voice mail. There was a millisecond's pause, as though Adalind answering Nick's phone had thrown Eve for a loop, before Eve brusquely regained her equilibrium and continued.

"I need to speak with Nick," she said, and Adalind sighed into the phone loudly.

"He's unable to talk right now," Adalind said as steadily as she can manage.

"No, I need to speak with him," Eve insisted, and Adalind flashed her eyes up at the ceiling above her in annoyance.

"Look," Adalind ground out. "He's a little busy fighting for his life right now, but I can take a message and he'll get back to you as soon as wakes up, if he wakes up," she added with a touch of hysterical laughter threatening.

There was a pause, at least a couple of seconds long this time before Eve demanded quietly, "What happened?"

Adalind looked up again, eyes filling with tears. She'd be damned if she was going to cry where Eve could see or hear it.

"Adalind?"

She took a deep, shaky breath and let it out slowly. "He's in a coma," she said. "He's not going to be able to help you with whatever, so you're just going to have to figure it out on your own," and with that she hung up before her emotions got the better of her.

%%%%%%%%%

"Adalind!"

Adalind blinked hazily, wisps of hair that had slipped through a hastily pulled together bun, falling over her face. She pushed up from the sofa she had apparently fallen asleep on. She stared blearily at the figure before her, trying to get her bearings. She felt sick, the nausea back with an ugly vengeance.

"Hm?" she managed. Her neck had a crimp in it, and she wondered idly how long she had been asleep. She gasped and reached an upright position hurriedly as she remembered the last time she had fallen asleep. _Nick_. The sudden movement was a mistake, and she held her hand over her mouth a nose, and attempted to breathe through the sickness that rose in her throat. She glanced up into Trubel's worried face.

"Adalind? How's Nick?" She took a few deep breaths and slowly pulled her hand away.

"Sorry, I must have drifted off," she murmured.

"Are you okay?" Trubel asked, looking Adalind over curiously. Adalind nodded.

"I'm fine, just…something I ate, I think. Nerves," she added, waving her hand. She felt bile surge and she clasped it over her mouth again as she fought back a gag. Trubel's brow furrowed and Adalind choked back another gag before leaping to her feet, nearly knocking Trubel over in the process, and vomiting into the nearest trashcan.

"Uhh…Adalind?"

She vomited again, silently cursing her luck. She felt hot and sweaty, and tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes. It had been nice, she reflected dimly, to have had none of the morning sickness with Kelly as she did with Diana and, apparently, this baby. She hadn't truly appreciated what an easy pregnancy his had been. In light of everything that had been going on at the time she should have been doubly grateful.

"You sure you're okay?"

Adalind closed her eyes for a moment, as she recalled Trubel standing behind her.

"Yeah. Just stomach's been in knots," she said, wishing she had a toothbrush. She looked up and flashed a poorly attempted smile at Trubel.

"How's Nick? Has there been any change?"

Adalind shook her head, and shifted her position slightly on the floor to where she was leaning up against one of the chairs.

"Eve said…Eve said…he's in a coma?" Trubel said, voice trembling a little. Adalind nodded again tiredly.

"He was chasing a suspect, a stachelig qualle, and was impaled four times. One of the wounds went through his liver, the other punctured his lung, the other two deep but not as serious. He had to have surgery to repair the wounds," she recited dully. "Stachelig qualle carry a poison, known as tod ranken, death tendrils. As the poison spreads through the veins from the wounds it causes excruciating pain as it reaches the heart. Usually the victim's heart gives out long before it reaches it. Nick's heart—" she halted, gathering her breath, "—his heart has stopped twice already."

"Jesus," Trubel breathed. "Is there an antidote?"

Adalind nodded, feeling her stomach quell again. "I think so. It seems like I remember a—a—paste? I know I've seen something on it somewhere. Maybe my mother's zaubertrank," she murmured, and wished again that she was actively working on a solution instead of sitting here helpless at the hospital.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Do you know anything about the case Nick was working on?" Adalind asked her, meeting Trubel's eyes.

"How—How do you mean?" Trubel asked and Adalind frowned, thinking it was a strange question.

"How do I mean? Do you know the name of the man he was chasing? What he might be involved in? He was led into an ambush on a rooftop. The suspect who did this is still at large. Sean has everybody looking for him, but no one has found him yet. Hank didn't know if Nick had even identified the type of Wesen he was chasing, but I'm thinking maybe you might know who it was, or you could find out," Adalind said, and Trubel nodded slowly.

"I can see what I can find out," she agreed cautiously.

%%%%%

TBC - comment below


	4. Chapter 4

For midnightjen, because one good turn deserves another right?

(plus this is a short chapter, so I'll make it up to you all after the show Friday night or Saturday (provided I haven't lost the will to live after the finale).

%%%%%

"What did you find out?"

"He's dying," Trubel returned shortly. Eve swiveled to follow Trubel as she strode past her. She ignored Johannson and Tyler standing post in the hallway as she stalked past, Eve trailing purposefully but more sedately behind. Trubel groaned inwardly when she spotted Meisner standing in front of her dorm door.

"What's the word?"

"He's in a coma. It doesn't look good." Trubel replied, brushing past Meisner.

"Are they certain?"

"He's on life support. His heart has stopped twice. What do you think?"

"Newton got to him," Eve stated. Trubel looked at her, emotion evident on her face as she nodded.

"Yeah." Trubel turned to her closet. She pulled a bag out and began stuffing it with some clothes.

"What are you doing?" Meisner asked.

"If Newton injected him with the tod ranken, it's only a matter of time. He must be administered an antidote soon or he will die," Eve said and Meisner glanced at her and sighed.

"We need to find Newton," Meisner said.

"We need to find an antidote," Eve replied.

"We find Newton we find the antidote. I'll even let you have first crack at him."

"We might not have that long," Eve replied. She slid her eyes to Trubel. "Did you get a look at the wounds?"

Trubel shook her head. "They only allow immediate family, and only during designated visitation hours. Adalind's been the only one who's seen him."

"Did she say how far the tendrils have spread from the wounds?" Eve pressed and Trubel shook her head again.

"She's pretty upset," Trubel said, remembering the shell-shocked face, the exhaustion evident in her eyes. She couldn't imagine what she was going through, the worry and fear over losing her husband and father to her children.

"She wants our help finding whoever did this," Trubel told them.

"Does she know about Newton?" Meisner asked.

"No, she just knows a stachelig qualle did this, and she suspects we may know who it is or can find out," Trubel said hotly. She shoved a pair of boots in the duffle and zipped it up.

"Where do you think you're going?" Meisner demanded, folding his arms over his chest.

"To find Newton. Or the cure. Rosalee and Monroe and the others are going through the books now."

"You're staying here."

"No way," Trubel said. "Not when Nick's fighting for his life!"

"We have other concerns, unfortunately, not just Nick."

"No!" Trubel shouted and Meisner frowned while Eve stared back without any emotion.

"He's right," Eve said.

"I'm sorry, but we need you here," Meisner said, pausing at the door. He glanced at Eve. "Maybe you can talk some sense into her." He left, quietly shutting the door behind him. Eve watched him go and then turned back to Trubel.

"No way I'm staying here. It's Nick! Okay? He's the one who first explained all this to me. He's the one who cared, and gave me a place to live and showed me I wasn't crazy. He looked out for me. He's—" she broke off abruptly as she felt tears overwhelm her.

Eve watched her coolly.

"I know you don't care. He's the closest thing to family I have," she finished softly. "If I lose him I won't have anyone. If it was me lying in that hospital bed dying he'd do anything to find out who was responsible. There'd be no stopping him. I owe it to him to help in any way I can. You're not going to talk me out of it, so just save your breath."

"I'm not going to talk you out of it. I'm going to help you," Eve said levelly.

%%%%%%%%

"Why are you doing this? Since there are _other concerns more important than Nick,_ " Trubel asked her, glancing at Eve. They were retracing the steps Nick had made in his pursuit of Newton the day earlier. Trubel had suggested contacting Hank and the others, but Eve had shaken her head, wanting to review everything themselves before adding anyone else's perspective into it.

"We do have other concerns, but we need Nick in this fight," Eve said blandly, standing on the roof, looking across at the buildings. Trubel looked, too, staring in wonder at some of the gaps that Nick had jumped, wondering if he even thought about what he was risking as he did so, trying to keep Newton in sight.

"Soooo…not because it's Nick, whom you once loved for years."

"Juliette loved. A long time ago."

Trubel gave her a disbelieving look, but the expression was lost on Eve who was focused on the path Nick and Newton had made and, apparently, recreating it. She sprinted and jumped, easily, surprising Trubel, across the first gap, and then turned and looked at Trubel expectantly.

"You've got to be kidding me," Trubel said, shaking her head. It was too late; she had already looked down. Ten stories below them was hard concrete, dotted with dumpsters in a shady looking alleyway. "There's no way I can make it."

"Jump," Eve said. "I'll make sure you don't fall," she added and Trubel gave her a skeptical look, and looked over the edge again. She shook her head.

"How 'bout I meet you over at the last one," she offered and started to turn away to head back down. An invisible force gripped her and Trubel froze, terrified of what was happening. A few seconds later she had been transported across the gap and was unsteadily getting to her feet, where she had lost her balance when Eve had released her.

"Don't ever do that again," Trubel said shakily and Eve stared at her with her trademark blank look, though Trubel thought she detected a slight smirk in the expression.

"Two more to go," she replied and Trubel glared at her. They walked briskly across the rooftop, Eve glancing over the surface, looking for what, Trubel was not sure, clues or debris from the pursuit.

"So it wouldn't be because it would mean Nick would be leaving two small children behind." _And a wife, whom you hated for years and now has everything you had ever dreamed of with Nick as Juliette,_ Trubel thought, continuing her train of thought from before.

"That would be unfortunate for the children," Eve replied emotionlessly. "but you know as well as I do that Rosalee, Monroe and Hank would shoulder the care and responsibility of helping Adalind to protect and raise them."

"And you," Trubel replied stubbornly, not buying the distance Eve was trying to imply. "Wouldn't you?"

Eve looked at her for a long moment.

"It's to everyone's benefit to ensure the child of a Grimm and a Hexenbiest, or a Hexenbiest and a Zauberbiest, are raised with the proper influences, particularly when that child starts demonstrating his or her abilities," Eve said.

"Why can't you just admit that you care what happens to Nick, and what happens to his family?" Trubel said annoyed. "You may not like Adalind, but don't have to act like you don't care what happens to her and their kids if Nick dies."

"I don't like or dislike Adalind," Eve said. "Juliette may have. Nick was quite clear that he did not want me interacting with, or around, her or their children," and took off at a sprint and vaulted over the next gap. Trubel frowned and then followed suit, landing inelegantly beside Eve. Trubel breathed heavily while her heart pounded in her ears before standing.

"What are we looking for?" Trubel finally asked as they resumed their search. "Police have combed the roofs already. What are you hoping we'll find that they didn't?"

"Something they missed," Eve replied.

"Obviously," Trubel retorted.

"For months we've been monitoring information as to Newton's whereabouts and what his plans are," Eve began. "Yet Nick somehow receives a tip and gets involved in a foot chase with Newton and we have no idea where the information came from or how Nick managed to obtain it. Has he said anything to you?" she asked Trubel suddenly, eyes regarding her carefully.

"No," Trubel replied truthfully. She and Nick talked infrequently anymore and while mostly about Wesen topics, usually it was information relayed from or to the Wall. She missed the closeness they once shared. Two people with such uniquely singular abilities dropped in the same town. She had never felt alone with Nick, but so many things had changed in his life in the last two and half years. Losing Juliette, his mom, the birth of his son and the evolution of his relationship with Adalind, in addition to a demanding workload as a police officer and a Grimm. He was a married father of two now, and seemed, finally, quite content with the way his life had turned out, despite the painfully convoluted journey he had undertaken to reach that point.

Trubel on the other hand, despite changes and the journey she had undertaken felt left behind and alone, still not sure of where she belonged. She too had become more involved with work as the uprising loomed and her duties as a Grimm increased. She wondered if it was just always something that would follow her, no matter where or what she did in life. Once alone and an outsider, always alone and an outsider.

Either way, it wasn't Nick's burden to have to bear. He had enough with protecting his own family.

"Then that leaves Sean Renard," Eve said and resumed walking.

%%%%%%%%

She didn't know how Nick had cleared the last jump. The adrenaline and speed obviously combining to give him the ability to clear it without incident, or at least any she could see. She wasn't a detective, but it didn't appear any of the brick edging had claw marks where someone had tried to hold on. Trubel wished she could have said the same, but had it not been for Eve's telekinetic abilities, Hank and Wu would likely be investigating the stain on the pavement below, at least initially. There was blood, here, Trubel could see. This was where Nick had been ambushed, according to what they knew. Six attackers, likely appearing from behind the debris that littered the top of the roof. Some commercial air conditioning units, crates and other assorted items. He had got the drop on three of them, and Trubel could see by the pools of blood within the chalk outlines where they fell.

She trailed after Eve, who was still intent on looking over the crime scene. Yellow tape still cordoned off a large area, and Trubel eyed the outlines of the bodies dubiously, wondering if they had all been the same type of Wesen as they presumed Newton to be or a variety. She stopped when she realized Eve had, and stared down at what held her so fixated.

Eve toed a quill-like object with her black boot, blowing innocuously on the ground with the breeze a few feet away from the closest chalk outline. There were a few spots of blood nearby and Trubel swallowed. Eve bent down and carefully picked up the quill between a gloved thumb and forefinger and examined it carefully. Trubel leaned in as well. It looked razor sharp, despite its deceptive frailty; hard and stiff and Trubel imagined it slicing through Nick, puncturing his lung, or an artery. Slicing through his liver. Stared down at the dried blood around their feet, knowing instinctively some of it was his and swallowed the lump that surged in her throat.

Eve looked at her suspiciously, as though noticing Trubel's discomfiture.

"This is where they got him," Eve said, unnecessarily, and Trubel nodded.

"Adalind said he was stabbed four times," and Eve looked down.

"Not much blood," she said, and Trubel nodded again. "The toxin takes hold fast," she noted.

"Makes sense considering how deadly it is," Trubel managed. "We need to be finding the cure," Trubel added, impatience creeping into her voice. "The cops have looked all this over."

"They missed this," Eve pointed out, holding the quill. Trubel shrugged.

"What good does that do us?"

"We'll find out," Eve replied. "We need to go to the hospital."

%%%%%%%%

"Adalind," Trubel said when she spotted her sitting in one of the chairs that lined the hallway. A nurse sitting next to her turned and eyed Trubel before turning back to Adalind with a few words and a smile. She patted Adalind's knee and stood, flashing another polite smile at Trubel and Eve. Trubel moved her attention back to Adalind. She looked pale, almost green, and she was nibbling on a saltine, Trubel saw.

"Are you okay?" Trubel asked her.

"I need to see Nick," Eve cut in impatiently, and Trubel huffed in annoyance. She looked at Adalind apologetically, as Adalind flicked her eyes from Trubel to Eve.

"Excuse me?" Adalind said, ignoring Trubel.

"I need to see Nick," Eve repeated. "Which room is he in?"

"How is he?" Trubel asked.

"Unresponsive, same as before," Adalind said stiffly, setting the crackers aside. She took a shaky breath and fixed her eyes on Trubel. "Did you find anything out?"

"Nick was stabbed with a stachelig qualle," Eve said and Adalind's eyes narrowed.

"I know that," she said slowly, as though trying to control her temper. "Did you find out who the stachelig qualle was? Why Nick was chasing him? Where he might be at?"

"If the poison reaches Nick's heart it will be fatal," Eve continued and Trubel rolled her head in annoyance.

"I know," Adalind bit out. "I know what a stachelig qualle is and what it can do," she added hotly.

"Good, then you know we don't have much time. I need to see Nick," Eve repeated and Adalind frowned.

"He's unconscious, and only family is allowed in his room," Adalind said, and edge to her voice, the subtle reminder of what she was and what Eve wasn't. "Why do you need to see him?"

"I need to see how far the toxin has spread," Eve replied.

"About two inches from his wounds."

"I need to see him," Eve repeated.

"You need to find out who did this," Adalind returned. "So the police can find him and we can find an antidote or a cure."

"I know who did this," Eve replied and Trubel glanced at her warily.

"Who?" Adalind gasped, getting unsteadily to her feet. The saltines fell to the floor and everyone looked at them momentarily.

"Sean Renard knows who's responsible. If he's supposedly unable to find him maybe you should ask yourself why."

"What does that mean?" Adalind demanded, brow furrowing. She looked from Trubel to Eve.

"Where's Nick?"

"You're not allowed in to see him," Adalind said.

Eve's gaze lingered on Adalind before turning and moving down the hall.

"Wait!" Adalind said, hurrying after. "What does that mean?" She glanced back at Trubel. "Hold on a second!" She exclaimed hurrying to get in front of Eve. Eve eyed her as though she were a particularly annoying insect she'd like to flick away.

"You know who Nick was chasing?" she said, holding a hand out in front of her. She looked at Trubel when Eve didn't respond right away.

"A Wesen who goes by the name James Newton," Trubel said. "Nick's captain had some dealings with him over the last six months."

"He goes by many names," Eve said levelly. "You might recognize him as Brighton Sudcliffe."

Adalind slid her eyes back to Eve in surprise. "What?"

"Sudcliffe made contact with Renard seven months ago. Since then he's had a number of meetings with Renard and has been tied to two assassination attempts on the Royals."

"You think Sean's involved," Adalind said. "Did Nick know?"

"We made Nick aware of Sudcliffe and his contact with Renard six months ago. Since then we've been attempting to monitor contact between them, but it's been difficult. We weren't aware of any further involvement with Nick or the police other than the initial container case that Nick came to us with back then."

"He never said anything about…about Sudcliffe, or Renard, or his case," Adalind said quietly. "This has been going on for seven months?" she asked.

"That we know of," Eve replied and Trubel flashed a look at her. _Not helping_.

"Maybe Nick didn't want to worry you, Adalind," Trubel offered. "We're not sure what Renard's meeting with Sudcliffe about."

"It's Sean, what do you think?" Adalind snapped. "Nick's been preoccupied, I mean, lately," Adalind murmured a moment later when nobody said anything.

"Does he ever talk about his cases with you," Eve asked her.

"Sometimes, yeah," Adalind said, as Eve raised an eyebrow, and Trubel noted the slight surprise. "If he's having a particularly perplexing case he'll talk to me about it. He's been tired, but then, he usually is, what with the kids and work and Grimm stuff," Adalind said, trailing off. "Yesterday—" she faltered, "What day is this?" she asked absently and then continued, "I mean, other than the fatigue, he never mentioned anything about a Newton or Sudcliffe."

"I'm sure he didn't want to worry you, particularly in light of your present condition," Eve said with a penetrating gaze.

Adalind flushed and glanced between Trubel and Eve guiltily.

"Wait, what?" Trubel said looking at Eve.

"I don't know what you mean," Adalind replied.

"You're pregnant," Eve said.

"What!" Trubel said looking at Adalind. Adalind shook her head, as Trubel glanced nervously back at Eve. She didn't _think_ Eve would do anything.

"No, that's not it. Nick doesn't know. I mean, I hadn't—I didn't get the chance to tell him yet. I was waiting for the perfect moment," Adalind finished unsteadily.

"How unfortunate," Eve replied and resumed her search for Nick.

"What are you doing?" Adalind said, hurrying after her.

"I need to see Nick," Eve restated. She continued walking purposefully until she found what she was looking for, Adalind following as they both entered the room.

"Why? What good is that going to do?" Adalind demanded as a nurse in the room looked up at their arrival. The nurse opened her mouth, likely to object to the visitors, when Eve flashed a palm in the air and the nurse froze mid-step. She flicked her wrist and the nurse flew back against the wall, pinned.

"Eve!" Trubel yelled. Adalind paused beside her, staring disbelievingly, before stumbling past when she caught sight of Eve leaning over Nick.

"What are you doing? Get away from my husband!"

Eve waved her hand and the blankets were pulled back and Trubel gasped as Adalind froze, eyes widening. The wounds and the area surrounding them were almost entirely black, with the tendrils along the edge pulsating with each pump of blood. The black was spreading almost two and a half inches from their individual point of origin. Eve woged as she peered closely at them and Trubel became aware of the hissing noise of the ventilator, the cacophony of beeps, machines and monitors, in the small room.

"Oh, Nick," Trubel said, holding her hand over her mouth. He looked dead, and worse, he looked like he had been that way for a while. "Nick," Trubel whispered and followed as Adalind drifted haltingly closer, taking Nick's hand.

"Get away from him," Adalind said again to Eve with quiet menace. "He's not yours to worry about anymore. You gave up on him, remember? You pushed him away," and Eve fixed Adalind with another penetrating gaze, the emotions usually kept so tightly locked down, more evident on her face than they had been in a long time.

"It's ironic isn't it?" Adalind remarked almost casually, looking at Eve. "I may have been the reason you two broke up initially, but you're the reason he's with me. Even with Kelly, had you given him a chance to reconcile the changes—and he would have, too, you know? He's just like that if he loves you enough, and he loved you—we would have never have pursued a relationship. His mom, the trailer; you. You took everything away from him until all he was left with was me and Kelly and we made it work. And I'm not about to give up on him. So find Newton or Sudcliffe or whoever he's going by, or the antidote, but get the hell away from him."

"Adalind," Trubel said, but wasn't sure what else to say from there. She was surprised by the vehemence in Adalind's tone, though she never raised her voice. It had been a couple of years since all that had happened with Juliette, and Eve had taken her place supposedly with all her old memories intact, but none of her old feelings for Nick, or anyone else. Trubel had wondered, though, and obviously Adalind, too, especially when Eve had been given a shot of suppressant and it appeared she was trying to make amends with Nick. Once the suppressant had worn off she had returned to the distant and unaffected Eve, though every once in a while, or perhaps because of it, Trubel thought she saw the Juliette of old peeking through the facade.

Eve breathed quietly, an almost silent hiss of air before her face returned to normal. She stared at Nick for a few seconds longer and then looked at Trubel and Adalind, almost as though Adalind hadn't spoken, but the silence lingered uncomfortably a beat too long. Eve opened her mouth to speak.

"We don't have much time."

%%%%%%%


	5. Chapter 5

AN: For those of you who might be wondering WTF, this whole plot idea started with the idea of "what would Nick's family say if they knew about his and Adalind's relationship." Of course all his family is dead, so that meant a little creativity.

AN2: I personally enjoyed the finale immensely and am choosing to go into season six with hope. With that said, let me post this next part.

%%%%%

"Almost?" Nick said, whirling to look at his mother. "Almost? What does that mean? I'm going to die?"

"You've already died. Twice now, technically," his mother replied stiffly and he stared at her open-mouthed, eyes hardly comprehending.

 _What?_

He whirled back to the bed, though the him that had been lying there was harder to make out now that he was before.

"What?" he said still at a loss, and he turned back to his mom for an explanation. She shrugged helplessly.

"It's why we're here," she said, and his face scrunched up in confusion and outrage.

"I can't be here. I have a family! I've got a wife and two kids who need me," he stammered.

"You've got bigger concerns, right now," his mother replied and he stared at her as though she had grown a second head.

"Take it from me, there are worse things than being dead," someone said, and Nick whirled behind him and felt his mouth fall open again. He gaped, eyes raking in the long dark brown hair, sharp blue eyes and no nonsense tone.

"Aunt Marie!"

She smiled at him in welcome, and Nick ran his eyes over her again. She looked as he had remembered her, before the cancer had ravaged her body, shortly after he had grown up and gone out on his own, a young man still grappling with the loneliness of having so little family, a transient lifestyle, and an uncertain future. He had been so directionless there, for a while, until Marie had sensed he needed a gentle push and had provided it. At times a shove when she deemed it necessary.

"Miss me?" she asked with a knowing grin, and Nick stepped forward to embrace her before coming to a halt, remembering his mother's weird behavior when he had acted the same. Marie looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Come on, give us a hug," she said, and held her arms out for him, and he closed the distance, half expecting to meet empty air and felt his throat swell when instead he felt his aunt's arms around him, warm and solid.

"Marie," he whispered, and pressed his chin against her shoulder, trying to shield the emotion in his eyes. He felt her run her hands up and down his back before patting it, and he stepped away, but not before catching a glimpse of his mother struggling to get her emotions under control.

"I missed you," Marie said, and Nick grinned boyishly. "Look at you," Marie said, taking him in. "Kelly," Marie said, looking past Nick to his mother and he stepped out of their way, but his mom merely nodded in acknowledgment, emotion shining in her eyes and Marie nodded, too, but didn't move to embrace her. Marie looked from his mother after a moment, to the Nick lying on the bed, attached to a dozen machines and he felt emotion surge again when he saw his aunt Marie's face as she looked upon him.

"I never wanted this for you," she whispered stricken, and approached the bed hesitantly.

"He's not dead yet," his mother murmured.

"He will be," Marie said, turning to her sister and Nick felt his heart plummet, or would have, he supposed, had it been working. He could still sense no heartbeat, or need for breath, for that matter. "If the tod ranken reaches his heart."

"The what?"

"The tod ranken," Marie said, turning back to Nick. "Death tendrils," she translated.

"Well that sounds…" Nick began, "…foreboding," he finished. "Death tendrils?" he asked again.

"Yes, you were impaled by a stachelig qualle. It's a toxin they carry. The toxin looks like black tendrils as it emanates from the wounds under the skin. Eventually they spread until they reach your heart."

"And that's when it kills you," Nick said.

"No, not generally," Marie replied and Nick sighed in relief. "Usually the process is excruciating, and causes the heart to stop several times, before it finally just gives out, long before the tendrils ever reach it."

Nick stared at her wordlessly and looked back at the body on the bed, his body, and wondered what he was going through, what Adalind must be going through right now.

His had died twice, already, his mother said, and he couldn't imagine how he would feel, if the situation were reversed and it was Adalind lying there, while he attempted to come to grips with the fact her heart had stopped twice, that it might do it again and never restart.

He looked down at the ground for a moment, generic white hospital tile below his feet.

"Is there a cure or an antidote?"

"Yes," Marie said, also looking back at Lifeless Nick. "If it's administered in time, it stops any further damage to the heart muscle."

"So Rosalee might have it, or be able to figure it out," he said.

"Rosalee?" Marie asked, turning back to him.

"His friend. A Fuchsbau," his mother added, crossing her arms over her chest. Marie looked at him in surprise.

"What?"

"It's likely though that she wouldn't have anything like that in any of her books," his mother said to him, ignoring Marie. "That type of antidote is very rare, and very dangerous, more likely to be found in a zaubertrank. I doubt a Fuchsbau would have access to that kind of thing."

Nick looked up in surprise.

"Adalind."

"Who?" Marie asked.

"Adalind. I bet it's in her mother's zaubertrank somewhere," Nick said, mind racing.

"Who's Adalind?" Marie asked.

"My wife," Nick said, and his mother smirked.

"You got married?" Marie said, looking at him in surprise, and maybe a touch of condescension, though Nick couldn't be sure.

"To a hexenbiest," his mother filled in.

"You married a _hexenbiest?!"_ Marie exclaimed, looking at him in shock. Definitely some judgment there.

"What, you didn't get the memo?" Nick returned sarcastically, glancing at his mother.

"Yes, the hexenbiest that tried to kill you, as a matter of fact," his mother added, looking around Nick to her sister, and Marie looked appalled.

"What?" Marie replied, looking from Nick-who rolled his eyes at his mom in annoyance-to her sister.

"And wound up poisoning you, instead, you said?" His mother added, turning to Nick. Marie did as well, eyes running over him and then the body in the hospital bed.

"Look, that was a long time ago," Nick said to Marie. "She feels really bad about that," he said to Marie who was still staring at him as though he had two heads. "She gave up her powers."

"Yes, after she put Juliette in a coma and took away your Grimm abilities," his mom put in and Nick glared.

"What? Juliette was in a coma? You lost your powers? Oh my god, Nick," Marie said. "What happened?"

"I didn't listen to your advice," Nick retorted dismissively. "Like I said, Adalind's no longer a Hexenbiest, okay, and we both have regrets about the things we've done in the past, and I got my Grimm back, no worries."

Marie raised her eyebrow disbelievingly.

"Yes, and Juliette became a Hexenbiest because of what you did to regain your powers, if I understand everything correctly," his mom put in ever so helpfully, looking at her sister.

"Yes, well," Nick ground out, "not a whole lot I can do about that aspect. Adalind, I suppose you might say was indirectly involved in that—" (or perhaps not so indirectly, Nick thought) "—but she came up with a suppressant for Juliette, it's just Juliette didn't want to take it at that point. But as far as trying to poison you, and me, and the Juliette coma—you know what…we're…we're good, and I'm the one who has to live with her. We both did some things we're not proud of, but we've changed and she's a much different person from when she tried to kill you."

"Yeah, she sounds like a keeper," Marie remarked dryly. "A Grimm and a Hexenbiest, married?" and she sounded faintly nauseated by the concept. "Nick, it's wrong. Where on earth did you ever get such a notion that that kind of an alliance would be okay?" Marie asked, and Nick frowned, doubly annoyed and hurt after the conversation with his mother that his aunt wouldn't be supportive of his choices either.

"Look, I realize it's a little—" Nick searched for the right word, trying to make his aunt understand.

"Appalling," his mom suggested, and he fixed another glare at her.

"Incredible," Marie put in.

"—Hard to take, and maybe, with the history, it might have been awkward, perhaps, at family reunions, but fortunately you're all dead, and so am I, or at least I will be soon apparently, so I guess we don't ever have to worry about it any awkward Christmases with all of us trying to get along."

"What on earth possessed you to marry a hexenbiest?" Marie asked him, eyes searching. Nick sighed disgustedly.

"Really? You were engaged to a Steinadler, weren't you? And you're questioning my life choices?"

Marie gaped at him in surprise.

"Oh my god, he knew about that? Marie. You're who he gets it from," his mother snapped, throwing her hands up.

"Gets what from?" Nick asked, annoyed.

"Where did you hear that?" Marie asked him, eyes narrowing, glancing at her sister accusingly who shrugged and shook her head, indicating it hadn't been her.

"The Steinadler himself," Nick said and sobered at Marie's stricken look.

"What?"

"Kolt. Farley Kolt," Nick said and Marie swallowed and reached haltingly behind her for a seat. She found one and sunk into it.

"How did— "

"I arrested him on suspicion of murder," Nick said, and registered a slight wave of shock on her face. His mother frowned and looked skyward, as though it was no surprise, and shook her head, and Marie bristled. "In regards to some gold coins," and he saw understanding dawn on his aunt's face. "He told me the story about the coins, and a woman he was engaged to who left him to take care of her sister's son when his parents died," Nick continued and Marie's face softened slightly, looked beyond Nick to his mom.

"Except you knew mom didn't die in that crash," Nick added bitterly. "And you kept it from me all that time," Nick said accusingly as Marie shook her head.

"It was safer for you that way, Nick," Marie said softly. "All that mattered was that you were safe and protected."

Nick shook his head, but said nothing. He had understood his mother's decision, even more so now that he had children of his own. Perhaps he even understood his aunt's part in it though he couldn't help the frisson of disappointment that she had kept something so momentous from him, knowing how much he had missed his parents, had cried over the loss and the loneliness and the sense of never really belonging, though she had done her best to anchor him. She had somehow managed to hide the Wesen world and her and their family's involvement in it for decades, until he started to transition over; had done her best to make sure the life he did have was as normal as possible.

"Farley…he was…how…how was he?" Marie asked him and Nick shrugged.

"Obsessed with the coins, but he was surprised and saddened to hear of your passing," Nick said and Marie nodded, eyes watering, and she looked away from Nick and his mother.

"Probably more surprised and saddened to hear of the coins passing through his fingers," his mother muttered and Nick flashed another look at her.

"Mom! Not helping," Nick said, and his mother frowned and shrugged, albeit slightly chagrinned.

"You never liked him," Marie hissed.

"He's a Steinadler!" his mother replied. "You're a Grimm!"

"He was a good man," Marie replied hotly.

"It would have never worked!"

"Well, then you should be glad we broke it off," Marie replied emotionally, and his mother frowned, rolled her eyes and moved over to Marie.

"Well, I'm not glad to see you so unhappy," she said, taking a seat beside her sister, and Marie gave her a look.

"What a relief," Marie replied sarcastically. "I don't need judgment from my little sister. Especially after what you did," she added, and his mom rolled his eyes again.

"What did you do?" Nick asked suspiciously, looking between the sisters. His mother gave Marie a warning look and Marie smirked. She turned to Nick to reply.

"Ran off with your father and married him as soon as she turned twenty. Your grandfather nearly had a coronary when he found out." Nick raised his eyebrows and looked at his mother.

"Really?" he said.

"Oh, please, you make it sound like it was some sordid affair," his mother said crossly at Marie.

"Wasn't it?"

"Hardly."

"You hid your relationship with him for over a year."

"Why'd you have to hide your relationship with him?" Nick cut in, interested in this glimpse of his parents' relationship.

"You're one to talk. You hid your relationship with Farley for years, before you finally admitted who he really was and what was going on."

"Let's just say your grandfather was a little bit overprotective," Marie told Nick ignoring his mother's accusation, and his mother snorted. "Perhaps you're right though. It would have never have worked. He was obsessed with the coins."

"Your grandfather had a particular opinion on what it took to measure up to his children, and especially his daughters, and for the record your father passed with flying colors," his mother informed him.

"Except he was Kehrseiter," Marie cut in. "You know had dad felt about mixing," she added to Kelly.

"So is that why you had to sneak around with my dad then?" Nick asked his mother.

"Your grandfather thought I was too young to be in such a serious relationship, and definitely too young to get married, and to a Kehrseiter. It wasn't that he thought your father lacking. The Steinadler on the other hand…"

"Dad knew he was a good man, too, whether he wanted to admit it or not," Marie insisted, "He just refused to see he was good enough for me. I wasn't going to subject Farley to such bigotry by forcing him to have to deal with our father."

"Oh stop. You know Dad would have killed him as soon as you brought him home."

 _Jesus,_ Nick thought. Maybe it was a good thing both his aunt and mother were long dead when Nick got serious with Adalind. They had had enough to overcome with their history without the added weight of a pair of overprotective Grimms declaring their relationship an affront to everything they stood for.

"Now I know where you learned that particular talent from," Nick broke in.

"Excuse me?"

"Monroe? Rosalee?" Nick reminded his mother. She rolled her eyes when she realized what he was getting at.

"Monroe, the Blutbad?" Marie asked him.

"Yeah," Nick said.

"You've met him?" his mother asked Marie.

"Yeah, woke up and he was hovering over my hospital bed," Marie said, looking at Nick, and his mother looked at Nick as well.

"He was guarding you," Nick said defensively.

"You had a Blutbad guard your aunt?" his mother asked in disbelief. "Didn't you kill his great-uncle?" she asked Marie.

"Yes, oh, in 86 was it?" Marie said, thinking and Nick rolled his eyes.

"He helped to save your life," Nick said. "And I didn't have a lot of choices. Renard pulled the police detail and I had to find somebody who was capable of protecting you from the type of threat you'd probably have, and a threat I didn't fully understand then, either." It had worked, at least that first attempt on Marie's life. She had died later that day after another attempt, in his arms.

"Who's this Rosalee?"

"She's Monroe's wife, a Fuchsbau, and a good friend," Nick insisted, and Marie raised her eyebrows disbelievingly, "Met her when I worked her brother's murder six months after you died."

"A Blutbad and a Fuchsbau, married? Can't imagine that going over well in the Wesen community. Another disgrace, that kind of intermingling among Wesen," and Nick bristled at the implied accusation that his and Adalind's relationship fell under that category.

"See? Will you listen to that?" his mother waived an arm out at him. "Friends with a Fuchsbau, and a Blutbad, and married to a hexenbiest. Dad would be horrified," she said to Marie. "Your influence," his mother added accusingly to her sister, and Marie shook her head defiantly.

"I didn't tell him to make friends with every Wesen he knows and marry a Hexenbiest!"

"Hey, you've been known to intermingle too, apparently," Nick replied to his aunt defensively and she gave him a sharp look at his audacity. "They're not all bad," he reminded her.

Marie bit her lip, but couldn't hide the smile that formed as she looked at him fondly.

"Headstrong and stubborn," Marie replied, looking at her sister. "Your influence, I think. Do you know what I had to put up with for almost eighteen years?"

"Hmph. Idealistic, tenacious, and argumentative. You're just like your father," his mother retorted, crossing her arms.

"He's got a lot of Reed in him," Marie agreed and Nick looked between them, wondering what specifically they might be referring to. "Looks a lot like him, too," Marie continued, scrutinizing him, and his mother glanced over him and nodded. "Your father was a very handsome man," Marie said. "He and I went to school together," Marie added. "It's how your mother and father met, remember that?" she said to Nick as she turned to her sister with her question.

"Mm," his mother said with a smile. "You're actually the one who brought him home," Kelly said and Nick's eyebrows shot up in surprise. His dad and his aunt had dated?

"Oh, for heaven's sake, it was nothing like that, wipe that look from your face," his mother said sharply, noting his keen interest.

"We were assigned a project together in school," Marie clarified, "which I wound up doing the whole thing as he spent the entirety of the project, and every visit to our house, seeking out and spending time with your mother. Who acted like she wasn't interested."

"I wasn't interested," his mother objected.

"Until you were," Marie added with a smile, and his mother smiled, too, remembering.

"He was very persistent," she said.

"And charming," Marie added. Kelly shrugged but didn't disagree. "Charmed the pants right off of you, didn't he?" Marie added, "Literally," with a loud guffaw and his mother looked at her with righteous indignation. Nick wished he could cover his ears, though he was still intensely curious about his parents' history. Still, he thought seriously about doing so after his aunt's next comment.

"Marie!" Kelly exclaimed.

"What? You think I had no idea what you were doing when you said you were going for a walk? Who do you think covered for you when you were gone? All those walks," she added mischievously. "You always did come back with such a healthy glow," and he thought his mother's faced flushed.

"Dad would have shot Reed if he knew what was really going on, but half the time he wasn't aware he had come around, at least at first," Marie said, and Kelly shook her head.

"He was gone a lot, your grandfather, and when he found out your dad was hanging around the house, well then he started taking me with him," Kelly said remembering. She sobered after a moment.

"He's got Reed's eyes," she said, lingering on Nick's and she looked down.

"He's got Reed's face," Marie replied.

"I wish your father could have seen you all grown up, at least once," his mother said haltingly. "He'd be so proud and so amazed at what you've become," and Marie nodded in agreement. "Though maybe not with your choice in a wife," his mother added pointedly and Nick huffed a sigh.

"You were always his boy," Marie said. "Remember?" she said to her sister. "You should have seen him when you were born and he found out he had a son. He was telling anyone who would listen." Kelly smiled, and Nick managed a weak smile in response, remembering when his own son was born and how ambiguous he had initially felt about the arrival of his child.

"I can barely remember Dad," Nick said softly, feeling guilty. It had been twenty-five years since he last saw his father. His memories of his father were faint ones. He worked a lot, Nick could remember, or at least was gone a lot, though now he wondered how much had been to an actual job and how much was helping his mother under the guise of working his job. Still, being a Grimm didn't pay the bills, he could attest to that. He had a playful, teasing sense of humor, not unlike Adalind's, and an easy-going demeanor. He could vaguely remember his father using it on his mother to diffuse tense situations, her grudging smile and spontaneous laughter when he had succeeded.

He wondered really if his father would be so disappointed in his choice of a wife.

"You're so much like him," his mother said. "And your aunt," she added looking at Marie. Marie smiled.

"And you," Marie pointed out. "Still," Marie said, looking back at Nick, "We did good," she said, and his mother nodded.

"Except the part maybe where you married the hexenbiest," his mother added, and Nick sighed and his mother shrugged unapologetically.

"I still think, deep down, you actually kind of liked the hexenbiest in question," Nick retorted. Marie looked at her sister with surprise.

"She's a Hexenbiest," his mother replied, though she didn't really deny the accusation. Marie narrowed her eyes at her sister. "but you're already married to her so I suppose I'm just going to have to find a way to live with it," Kelly said, then twisted her lips as a thought hit her. "Or actually, I guess I don't have to find a way to live with it."

"Find a way to be dead with it, then," Nick snapped and Marie raised an eyebrow at his tone disapprovingly.

"Nick, don't talk to your mother that way."

"You were engaged to a Steinadler," he pointed out. "I expected you to be more supportive with me on this."

"Yes, but a Steinadler is no hexenbiest, and our relationship never went beyond a few years spent together. I certainly never married him."

"No, you gave that up to raise me, instead," Nick said quietly.

"You were worth it. We had some fun, didn't we?" Marie said brightly, trying to shield the emotion from her eyes, smiling and Nick found himself mirroring her expression with a faint smile of his own. Yes, they had. He may have never have known about her other life until the end, but she had always taken pains to make their singular existence together fun, exciting, and full of love. She had doted on him at times, given him tough love others, and had endured everything that he had thrown at her as a precocious and mischievous young boy to his maturation into adulthood with affection and amusement. He could still recall her laughter at some of the things he had done as a child and teenager, and wondered how much he had provided a relief and a distraction from the heavy burden that was a Grimm's work.

 _She was my mom from the time I was twelve,_ he remembered telling Juliette once, and she had been.

"Yeah. We did," Nick said.

"So, tell me, how'd you manage to marry this hexenbiest anyway?"

"I asked her," Nick said. "She said yes," he added and Marie gave him an unamused look at his cheekiness. "For the last time, she's not a hexenbiest anymore, either. She gave up her powers years ago."

"What happens when she decides she wants them back?" Marie asked him. "Hexenbiests aren't known for their altruism."

"Maybe, maybe not. I took away her powers years ago, and she did get them back, so you have to understand, knowing everything she did to regain them, what it meant, and what she was giving up when she suppressed them for good after Kelly was born."

"Kelly?" Marie said, looking at her sister questioningly.

"His son," his mother replied. "Apparently I'm a grandmother."

"You have a child? With the Hexenbiest?" Marie asked him, looking troubled, and Nick ignored the look and smiled and nodded.

"He just turned two a few months ago. And we have a daughter, too. Adalind's from a previous relationship. She's…seven," he settled on. _Give or take a year or two or four_ , Nick thought.

"Nick, I—" Marie said, searching for words, "—that's…wonderful," she settled on, though it didn't appear that word was her first choice. "Is that why you married her? A sense of duty?" she probed.

"No, we got married because I loved her and wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. You know, the usual reasons people get married."

"Not generally a usual reason for a Grimm and a Hexenbiest to tie the knot," his mother interjected.

"Well, how many Grimms and Hexenbiests do you know that are together?" Nick retorted, though if pressed he would confess to being actually curious about the answer. He wondered how often Grimm and Wesen crossed those lines. Clearly his aunt had thought about it, so it wasn't as rare an occurrence as some may have thought. He had not found anything in any of the books, though he hadn't been through them all yet, either, and had only half-heartedly researched it at one point.

"None, because they've all killed one another, at one point or another. They're natural enemies," his aunt said flatly.

"Well, what do you want me tell you? I guess there is a thin line between love and hate."

"Nick, you have to be careful. Your alliance with this woman—"

"Adalind, my wife."

"Your alliance with a Wesen such as her—you're a Grimm. Nick, other Grimms, and even Wesen are not going to be so receptive to your relationship with her. It's an affront. Your son. Is he…Is he like you?" Marie asked him delicately.

Nick shrugged. "I don't know. He's hasn't shown any indication of anything from either parent. He's just a normal little boy." Marie nodded.

"You're prepared if he's not?"

 _To do what?_ Nick wanted to ask. "What does it matter? Either way he's my son."

"The daughter, Diana, is an incredibly powerful Hexenbiest, and a descendant of one of the royal families," his mother interjected

"What?"

"His police captain, Renard, is the Wesen bastard son of the King in Austria."

"You're working for a royal?" Marie asked in alarm.

"Technically, yes, I suppose I am," Nick admitted, "Since I work for the Portland P.D. and he is my captain."

"He knows you're a Grimm?" Marie asked.

Nick nodded. "Like I know he's a Zauberbiest," Nick replied and Marie shook her head.

"Nick, it's dangerous to be involved with him or anyone in the royal families. If he knows you're a Grimm, there's a chance he'll try to use you to his advantage."

 _Oh, he's trying to use me all right,_ Nick thought. "I can handle Renard," Nick replied.

"His daughter—she's your wife's daughter? Nick, do you know how interested the royals would be in knowing there is an heir to the throne?"

"Yeah, I have an idea," Nick said drily.

"I had the girl in my possession," his mother told Marie. "When Juliette—as a Hexenbiest—lured me to Nick's house and the royals were waiting there to get the girl."

"Juliette?" Marie gasped.

"Yeah, she wasn't very happy with what had happened with her, and she was pretty pissed at me about my role in the whole thing, and she kind of went off the rails, and then there was the whole thing with Adalind..." he trailed off. "Showing up unbelievably pregnant with our son," he clarified when Marie gave him a look.

"You didn't know she was pregnant?"

"I didn't know it was Adalind I was—she tricked me. I thought it was Juliette. There was this spell," Nick said trailing off at Marie's look. "Verfluchte Zwillingsschwester," he added and she raised an eyebrow.

"Ugh, I've heard of those," his aunt said. "They make a huge mess of things. Your wife cast that? Was she trying to get pregnant? Tie you to her?"

"Yeah, they're fun," Nick agreed sarcastically, _especially some of the side effects_ , Nick thought, thinking of the excruciating headaches and the ability to see through the other person's eyes, "And no, she was trying to take away my powers because I took away her daughter. For a brief time, she succeeded. Juliette helped to reverse what she did, but there were a few side effects."

"I told you to leave Juliette. For her and your own good." Marie said quietly. Nick swallowed and nodded, wondering again if he could have avoided the heartache and misery of those last few years together if he had just followed his aunt's advice. He had thought they had been happy, and maybe they were before he found out he was a Grimm, but it was apparent now, when he looked back on it, how much they were both trying to regain something that had been lost a long time ago; the amount of work that had went in just to maintain the status quo.

"Anyway, that's apparently the long version of what's happened in the months and years since we've last seen each other," his mother said, looking at her sister. Marie stared at her for a long moment.

"Still doesn't answer why Nick is here, though. And we've both been dead for a while without seeing each other. Hmm," his aunt replied, lost in thought.

"Where's here again?" Nick asked. His mother waved her hand, indicating the space around them. Nick snorted.

"That's helpful, mom, thanks," he said in disgust.

"I'm not sure what this is, or where this is," Marie said, mostly to herself. "I've heard of...of something like this, written long ago, but obviously the number of Grimms who have gone through this and then lived to record it is incredibly few. Do you recall hearing anything like this?" she asked her sister and his mother shook her head.

"Like you, once, but I don't recall much information being recorded."

"Is this like Purgatory, or another dimension, then?" Nick asked, and both women shook their heads.

"What happened with Juliette? If she's a hexenbiest why isn't she the one you're with?"

"I couldn't handle it at first, when I found out," Nick said after a moment. "And then…she used me to almost kill Monroe, she tried to kill Adalind and my unborn son, and then what she did to mom…No, just…no. We could never—it was over between us. It had been for a long time, I just refused to see it."

"Did you kill her?" his aunt asked and Nick shook his head.

"I couldn't," Nick said softly. "Trubel, I guess, technically did," Nick replied.

"Trubel?" his mother asked.

"Technically?" his aunt asked.

"Another Grimm I discovered on another case a few years ago. Theresa Rubel."

"Another Grimm?" Marie said, diverted, as she glanced at her sister.

"Yeah, I've come across a couple over the years. She shot Juliette with the crossbow and when I woke up she was gone. I assumed she had died, but found out a few months later she had been taken by a top secret government organization that was fighting against Wesen. Juliette was captured, indoctrinated and resurrected as Eve."

"Eve?"

"Top secret government organization?" his aunt cut in.

"Yeah. Hadrian's Wall. The government knows about Wesen and is trying to prevent them from overtaking the world. And yes, Eve. The Wall's highly trained and efficient Hexenbiest weapon and killing machine against the Wesen uprising."

His aunt looked like she was trying to form words.

"Anyway, given the history, Juliette and I don't talk much unless we have to," Nick said to them, perhaps a bit unnecessarily.

"You don't work for this Wall do you?" his mother asked.

"No," Nick said. "I don't trust them enough. Occasionally we help each other out from time to time. They have an entire database of Wesen—names, addresses, aliases—and sometimes they need me for backup whenever they send Eve out on an assignment."

"But you work for the royal?"

"I work for the Portland police, where it was discovered later by me that my captain was the royal rumored in Portland. I've worked for him for a lot of years now," Nick corrected.

"That couldn't have been coincidence. You trust him?" Marie asked.

"No," Nick replied. "He's the one who had you killed," Nick said, "He convinced Adalind to make the first attempt on your life."

"Your lovely wife," Marie responded flatly.

"Well, I didn't find her so appealing then," Nick defended. "Obviously."

"It's a wonder after everything I've heard you found her appealing at all."

Nick glared but didn't bother to argue the point. He understood his feelings for Adalind defied all logic at times, but logic didn't change the depth of feelings he had for her. The fact that they were perfectly suited for one another.

"What were you doing before you wound up here?" his mother asked.

"Dying, apparently," Nick returned. His mom rolled her eyes, giving him a sharp look at his maudlin attempt at humor. Though truthfully if he found it any more disturbing than he did now he would curl up on the floor into a ball and sob like a baby.

"Before you wound up in the hospital. Do you remember anything?"

He looked back at his body on the bed and shook his head slowly.

"I think I was working a case, maybe," he said, trying to piece it together. "What did you say it was that…that…did that?" Nick asked them, indicating his prone form.

"Stachelig qualle," his mother supplied and Nick shook his head again. He'd never heard of it before. He tried to remember what he had been doing, where he had been when the stachelig qualle had done whatever it was that put him in the hospital.

"I was stabbed?" he asked her and winced as he felt a phantom pain somewhere in his abdomen.

"Impaled/Stabbed. Yes," she confirmed. "They inject the poison that way."

Stabbed and poisoned. Hell of a way to go.

"I was chasing a suspect?" he guessed. A stab (pardon the pun, he thought slightly hysterically) in the dark, but he only worked Wesen cases and therefore was chasing one Wesen or another at any given time. He felt the discomfort again and rubbed his hand across his side in annoyance.

"I was chasing a suspect," Nick said.

"The stachelig qualle?" Marie asked.

He nodded uncertainly. Had to be, he thought, given he'd been attacked by one. He tilted his head, deep in thought. He _had_ been chasing a suspect. On top of a building, if he recollected correctly. He remembered the bright blue sky around them, the gray alley ways below as he had— "jumped three roofs and I followed him," Nick said, more confidently. He had jumped the building roofs, too, had left Hank and Wu and his back up behind in his efforts to keep the suspect in sight. In hindsight, probably a grave tactical error on his part, considering he was half-dead, or near dead, or almost dead because of it.

He rubbed his hand again against a twinge near his stomach.

"I leapt right into an ambush," Nick said, remembering the final leap that had taken him straight into the enemy's clutches. There had been six initially. He dispatched three of them, but the remaining ones had distracted him just long enough for the stachelig qualle to make his move.

"Gah!" Nick said, clutching his chest.

"Nick?" Marie said in alarm.

"Nicky?"

"Agh," he moaned. He felt another pain, this time on his side and he wrapped an arm around his stomach.

"What's happening?" his mother demanded. He collapsed to his knees, feeling sick.

"Nick!"

He fell forward on the floor, Marie and his mother's worried faces coming into view. He stared up at the ceiling blankly, and more heat spread across his chest and stomach.

His abdomen was on fire. He gasped and shuddered, almost curling up the pain was so unbearable. It felt like his veins were burning and he opened his mouth in a silent cry of agony, unable to take the breath that would put a sound to the effort.

"We're losing him," his mother said to Marie, and his mind latched onto what she was saying.

 _I'm dying_ he thought. The agony intensified and he spasmed as it drove through his body in waves. He managed a shuddering gasp before his body went rigid as an unbelievable current of hurt and misery ran through him. A few seconds later it relented, enough so that he curled in on himself again, moaning.

"Nick! Nick!"

"Just hold on, Nicky. Stay with us," his mother pleaded. He whimpered and then writhed uncontrollably as another jolt coursed through him. His hands shook and then his whole body and he felt tears leak out the corners of his eyes. An inhuman sound erupted and distantly some part of his mind that was still working on it, that wasn't overcome with mind-blowing pain, registered that it sounded like him.

"Nick, just hang on, you hear me? Hang on."

 _Just kill me,_ he thought. _If it makes this stop, please, just kill me_.

%%%%%

thoughts?


	6. Chapter 6

He died.

Sometime during the evening, when she had fallen asleep in one of the waiting room chairs, he had slipped away in the night.

A seizure, the nurse had said.

He had seized for three minutes before his heart had given out, unable to take the stress and strain his body was under because of the toxin.

It had taken eleven minutes to resuscitate him, but they had, his body no longer his own, she thought, as the machines had taken over everything. His kidneys were failing and they had put him on a dialysis machine.

Adalind thought she was slowly losing her mind to the grief that had taken up residence, and now wondered if it was only a matter of time before she lost him for good.

He wouldn't want to live like this, kept alive by machines, suspended between what little life stubbornly remained or was being forced into him, and death.

Still, when the medical team had voiced those questions to her she had steadfastly refused letting them take him off the machines. Likewise, she refused to entertain any concept of signing a DNR. She twisted her wedding ring, a beautiful platinum band paired with a round diamond, the physical representation of Nick's love and commitment to her.

She was trying hard to be strong and keep her chin up, and maintain the hope that a solution would be found in time to save Nick but after this last incident she wasn't sure what would remain even if it did. The antidote, as far as she knew, only stopped the poison. She wasn't sure that it repaired all the damage it had caused. Nick had a liver teeming with it, a lung, kidneys that had failed and not to mention the heart muscle that might be damaged.

Grimms possessed the ability of morphallactic regeneration to a small degree. How long would it take Nick to be back to normal? And privately she worried if he would ever be able to fully recover. The tod ranken was incredibly potent, and from what she understood from the others about his experience under the Cracher-Mortel he still had what appeared to be lingering, permanent affects from that toxin. The Verfluchte Zwillingsschwester had had strange and lingering effects on Nick (and therefore her) as well. What would remain with him once he was supposedly cured from the tod ranken?

She had done nothing but think ever since this whole nightmare began. She was exhausted. She didn't dare allow herself to fall sleep again, but she was fighting a losing battle and that was making her paranoid. He kept slipping away every time she lost the battle against sleep and she didn't know what it meant; if it meant anything. The pregnancy was already rearing its ugly head in the form of zapping what little energy she was able to manufacture, making her crampy and sick, and creating heightened emotionality.

She wanted nothing more than to let go of the tenuous hold she had on her supposed strength and let herself crumble to the ground in a fit of hysteria. Problem was she was holding on so tightly she was terrified if she let go she wouldn't be able to pick herself back up again. This last time…this last time had really brought it home how close he was to slipping away from her forever. She doubted he could survive another episode like that. What was left to be run by machines?

She wished she had heard something from Rosalee or Hank or anyone. The last contact had been hours ago, when they had finally stabilized Nick. Rosalee had sounded frustrated over the lack of progress they were making, and then despondent when she heard why Adalind was calling. She hadn't heard anything from Hank or Wu or even Sean since earlier in the day. Or was it yesterday? How much time had passed? She wasn't even sure what day it was. Thursday?

She missed Kelly, and Diana. It seemed more important than ever to hold them. Kelly was enjoying quality time with his uncle Mo-mo, and she hadn't heard how Diana was with Sean's mother.

Sean.

Eve had said Sean knew who Nick was chasing. However, Sean had acted like he and the rest of the police were still trying to put together what happened. What game was he playing? Did Hank and Wu and the others know what Trubel and Eve had indicated?

She was so out of the loop sitting here in this hospital watching Nick die. So helpless and she fucking hated that feeling.

She looked at Nick, buried under the myriad of tubes and wires connected to him. He looked frail and ghastly, and she could see the tod ranken had spread what appeared to be another inch from the wounds. The wounds weren't weeping so the staff had been leaving them unbandage now for observation. Not only was he a prisoner to the machines, but a case study for the medical staff who were unfamiliar and fascinated by this medical mystery.

Someone had come in and shaved his face, his cheeks and chin smooth so that she could see the cleft in it. He looked so foreign to her like that, the Nick of old, Juliette's Nick. In the two some years she had been with Nick he had nearly always sported a shadow at the very least, and even a couple of times a beard. He had looked equal parts scruffy and devastatingly sexy to her, and she could still feel the phantom brush of his rough face when he kissed her, the delicious abrasiveness of his cheeks and face against her body when they made love. Everything else about him so gentle, passionate, and affectionate with her.

The way he had touched her, after she had been kidnapped and beaten.

"Well," she said in the quiet. "What the hell were you doing going after Sudcliffe?"

She could guess, really, at least some of the reason for his interest. He was Wesen, and a bad one, Nick of course, was a Grimm. He was also the Wesen that had held Adalind captive a year ago, and Nick didn't forget or let that kind of thing go when it was someone he loved. He was breaking the law and Nick, as an officer sworn to uphold the law, was duty bound to pursue the suspect, never mind he would break a few laws on his own if he got a hold of him.

"Did you know he was meeting with Sean?" she murmured. She thought back over the last six months. The animosity and bitterness as she had battled for custody of Diana with Sean. Nick at first trying to be neutral, the voice of reason, before he became more and more disgusted with Sean's behavior. And then after weeks of mudslinging, Sean had had a change of heart resulting in Nick standing down.

A sudden change of heart, maybe. Had Nick found out something? Held it over Sean's head in order to give her the custody arrangement they wanted? She realized how little he had talked about Sean in the intervening six months since they married. She had thought it had been due to the distance that had come between Nick and Sean as their professional lives began intersecting with their personal ones.

Or had Sean realized the opportunity he had? Held it over Nick's head—the custody agreement a gift given to ensnare Nick's loyalty. Diana living with them, as Adalind had wanted, rarely spending time under the influence of her biological father. Sean had always been interested in Nick, and what Nick could do for him in his bid to claim more power; reclaim the throne. Diana had come between them and that, had thrown a kink in Sean's plans and because of Nick's love for Adalind, had pitted Nick against Sean, something that Sean wouldn't have taken well.

"Did he find the thing that would keep you next to him?" She stared at Nick, running over his behavior over the last half year. "And did it condemn you to die like this?" she whispered brokenly, knowing he would have agreed, whatever his misgivings, to what Sean had offered up if it gave Adalind her daughter back. The daughter he had helped take away, and whose role in that he still felt guilty about.

"Goddamn you," she choked, overcome by grief. His decision to bring Adalind and Diana together had probably set in motion this whole terrible thing. His act to keep mother and daughter together as much and as permanently as possible might just be the final one of his life. "Goddamn you. You should have told me," she whispered, and a sob racked her body and she had to look down, away from him. She keened loudly, unable to stop the tears that flooded her eyes, the pain and misery she felt knowing what he did, that it was for her, because he loved her so completely.

He wouldn't have told her. To him whether or not it was wise or right to enter into such a shady arrangement with Sean when it meant that a mother would be with her child was a no brainer. And knowing the mother was her and the child Diana would have solidified that notion. He likely agreed to it with the thought the arrangement would afford Nick the opportunity to keep an eye on Sean. That if the time came where he needed to act, that as a Grimm he would be able to figure out something to keep Sean in check.

"If I lose you because of this, I will never forgive you, you hear me? Never forgive you. It wasn't worth it, what you did, whatever you promised him or agreed to, if it means you're taken from me. To watch you die like this," she rasped brokenly, tears running down her face. The pain and suffering he was enduring as punishment for giving her such a gift. She placed her hands over her face and sobbed mournfully. Her body shook as it was overtaken by the grief that had been bottled up for days and she wished she was dying with him so she wouldn't feel so alone. So left behind. Instead she had to keep it together, go on living, faking the smiles and the bravado for the sake of their children; that they wouldn't lose two parents.

She thought of Diana, and Sean. If Nick died, while Sean lived, she would make it her life's ambition to ruin his existence, as he had ruined hers when he dangled whatever deal it was that resulted in Nick being taken away from her like this, and she was certain Sean was behind all this. That he had promised Nick Diana in exchange for something.

She squeezed her eyes shut, tears flooding out, and rocked back and forth in her hospital chair as she fought to get herself under control again. She took a shuddering breath and looked at Nick, unchanged and hovering near death, as he was moments before, as he had been ever since Sudcliffe got to him. She took another breath and smoothed the hair away from her face, and gripped Nick's limp, cool hand tightly.

If Nick died, she might just kill Sean herself, consequences be damned.

%%%%%%%%%

"Hey, we got here as soon as we could. Hank and Wu should be here shortly," Rosalee said. "How are you holding up?" she asked, shrugging off her coat and scarf and placing them on one of the waiting room chairs. Adalind offered a wan smile.

"Not well, but still doing better than Nick," Adalind replied, and Rosalee pulled her into a hug. She had made a point to choke some food down; try to keep her stomach settled while she focused on what she had to do next, hoping to alleviate the cramping and uneasiness there. Adalind spotted Monroe carrying Kelly as they came into the room and her heart did a flip when Kelly caught sight of her and brightened noticeably.

"Mommy!" He held his arms out and Adalind disengaged from her friend and plucked Kelly from Monroe's arms. He was a piece of Nick, still living and breathing without the aid of machinery. She placed a kiss against Kelly's warm cheek, sliding her fingers over his head, through his baby fine hair, holding him tight to her.

"How's my little boy?" she murmured, nuzzling his dark brown hair. He was so much like his father, though Nick always argued Kelly was more like her. She supposed he was a little, more so in personality maybe, but he so strongly resembled Nick there would never be any doubt as to his paternity. She wondered fleetingly which of them their next baby would resemble most and pushed the thought out of her mind. She pressed another kiss to Kelly's head and focused on what Monroe was saying.

"I'm sorry?" Adalind broke in, realizing she hadn't been paying any attention.

"It's okay, it's—It's not important," Rosalee assured and Adalind glanced from her to Monroe.

"Nick?" Monroe asked.

"No change," Adalind said and allowed Kelly to slide out of her grasp to the ground to explore the room. "I think we're running out of time," she whispered haltingly.

"How far has the tod ranken-?"

"Another inch—inch and half at least. It's—it's probably not going to be too much longer."

"I'm sorry," Rosalee apologized, eyes ringed by tears. "Monroe and I checked everywhere—every book I had—"

"—We'll look again—" Monroe promised.

"—but we haven't found the cure," Rosalee finished. Adalind nodded feeling panic slide up her body. No cure meant no life for Nick. He would certainly die within a day or two, she suspected. Maybe only hours.

"We don't have much time. I don't think Nick will…" she stopped, unable to voice the thought out loud. "Did you find my mother's zaubertrank? I know—I'm sure—I saw it in there. Did you bring it with you?" she asked instead, trying to remain focused. Rosalee nodded, and Monroe grabbed the satchel slung over his torso and pulled it out.

"Yeah, but—"

"We need a hexenbiest to open It," Adalind cut in, and Rosalee nodded regretfully. "I contacted Trubel from Nick's phone. She and Eve should be here within the hour, too."

"Have you eaten anything?" Rosalee asked her and Adalind nodded her head.

"I'm good. I don't need anything," Adalind said, watching Kelly rip through a magazine. Literally. "Kelly, stop," she said firmly. He looked back at his mother, eyebrows raised and he looked so much like Nick in that instance she had to take a moment to collect herself.

 _Focus,_ she reminder herself firmly.

"Adalind?" Rosalee asked in concern and Monroe hovered nearby anxiously as well.

"I'm okay," Adalind said shakily. "Just...had a moment."

"Really?" Monroe said disbelievingly. "Because I'm about ready to fall apart or _tear_ someone apart and I'm only best friends with the guy. I can't imagine how you must be feeling."

"Monroe!" Rosalee snapped, and Monroe shrugged apologetically. Adalind flashed a tremulous smile.

"That's pretty close to how I'm feeling," she said to Monroe. "I can't sit here any longer and not do anything but watch Nick...continue to slip away. I _have_ to do something, and I may no longer be a hexenbiest but I can still help to figure out the cure for the stachelig qualle's toxin."

"What about Nick?"

"What about Nick?" Trubel broke in, coming into the room, Eve trailing behind her, and Adalind flashed another weak smile.

"You're going to stay and sit with him a bit," Adalind said.

"What?"

"You'll make a convincing little sister. Or half-sister," Adalind said. "And since only immediate family can be with him you'll at least look the part."

"Oh-kay," Trubel said hesitantly. "Where are you going to be?"

"Figuring out the cure. I know I had to see it somewhere in my mother's zaubertrank," Adalind said. "I can't sit here any longer and not do anything. I need you," she began hesitantly as she looked around Trubel to Eve, "to open it for me so I can find it." Given the way their last interaction went over Nick, Adalind wasn't sure how she would respond to her request for help. Eve stared back for a moment before she nodded.

"Very well," she said, though Adalind got the impression she wasn't really agreeing to the plan.

"How long do you need me to stay with Nick?" Trubel asked, looking worried.

"Just a couple of hours," Adalind said, "If I can't find it within that time it's probably not going to matter." Everyone sobered at this, and Adalind couldn't force herself to look any more encouraging. She was terrified that by leaving Nick's side he would take a turn for the worse. She didn't know what she would do if she wasn't there for his final moments, if it came down to that. She was hoping it wouldn't, that he would give the time needed to find the cure, give them the chance to save him.

"Hey guys—Trubel! And... Eve," Wu said in greeting when he spotted them in the room. Hank strolled in behind him.

"Hey Wu, hey Hank," Trubel nodded to each.

"What's going on?" Hank asked, looking at everyone and then Kelly who came over to Hank with his arms held out to be picked up. Hank waved a hand over Kelly's head as though to pat it, before he thought better of it and obliged him.

"New game plan," Adalind said, looking at her son.

%%%%%%%%

"What the hell do you mean the captain knows who's responsible?" Monroe demanded. Rosalee looked at Adalind incredulously, then transferred her gaze to Eve. Rosalee and Monroe, Adalind and the others were at the spice shop going through the zaubertrank while Kelly napped, finally having calmed down enough to sleep after making the rounds with the others. Adalind had noted he and Eve eyed each other curiously but Kelly kept his distance from her and Eve did not offer any friendly encouragement otherwise.

Eve, after having sliced her palm to open the zaubertrank had surprisingly stuck around, which put Adalind on her guard. Eve was primarily action oriented and until Adalind found the recipe she needed it was mostly a hurry up and wait game.

"We think the stachelig qualle that stabbed Nick was likely an associate going by the name of James Newton," Eve spoke up.

"James Newton?" Hank said.

"He's been indicated in your container case, and he's also had some meetings with Sean Renard. We suspect the assassination attempts on the royals in the last year might be because he and Sean are working together."

"What?" Wu said.

"He's also gone by another alias that might be more familiar to you. Brighton Sudcliffe," Eve added and Hank's brow wrinkled before recognition hit.

"The guy who helped Louis kidnap you both," Hank said, and Adalind nodded, thumbing through the pages of her mother's book. She lingered on the Verfluchte Zwillingsschwester when she came across it; the origin of so much upheaval nearly three years ago. It had set in motion the relationship she and Nick presently shared as she had become pregnant with their son when she had used it on Nick, and Kelly's arrival in their world had been key in the turnaround of her and Nick's animosity towards one another. It had also severed several relationships. Nick's with Juliette's, and because of that, Nick's with his mom. She ran her finger over the spell, remembering all the havoc it had caused, big and small.

"The same," Eve said after a glance at Adalind, who was only partly listening to the conversation around her. Adalind raised her eyes and caught her looking and quickly flipped to the next page.

"Wow," Wu said.

"Did Nick know?" Monroe asked, and Eve nodded.

"We informed Nick of Newton, his dealings with Sean, and his aliases. Nick was aware the captain had had several meetings with Newton but not why."

"Did you know why?" Wu cut in.

"No, we only had suspicions that Newton was using Sean to regain a foothold in the city with the uprising, but we have no concrete information. We also suspected Sean was using Newton to manipulate favor in the royal families. I informed Nick of everything we knew, and that was six months ago."

"Nick told me about Newton's connection to the captain. Even had me follow him around one afternoon, but I didn't discover anything, and after watching him for a few weeks we came up empty. We never saw any indication that the captain and Newton were working together. Nick didn't say any more about it. I think he's kept his eye on Renard, but so far everything's been clean," Hank said and Adalind looked up.

"Nothing?" she insisted and Hank shook his head.

"If he's known about this for that long why wouldn't he say anything more about it?" Monroe said, looking at everyone.

"Because Sean made him," Adalind said quietly after a long moment of pensive silence. Everyone looked at her.

"Did you know something about this?" Rosalee asked her. Adalind shook her head.

"No, Nick never said anything to me either, but…" she began, debating.

"But?" Hank prompted.

"But, it makes sense." She finished, biting her lip.

"What makes sense?" Monroe asked her.

"I think Sean dangled Diana and custody in front of Nick in exchange for his silence or his help. We had been deadlocked in the battle over her—I wasn't about to give in and neither was Sean—and all of a sudden within a couple of weeks of our getting married and her birthday party everything is ironed out, and I basically have everything I demanded the first time?"

"You really think Nick agreed to look the other way?"

"I think Nick saw the opportunity to give me what I've always wanted with my daughter. I think he still felt guilty for helping to take her away from me, and I think he probably thought this would eliminate a long, drawn out battle in the courts, so whatever it was that Sean demanded he said yes," she said with an uneven sigh, "probably thinking that whatever it was he could handle it if he needed to. Maybe he thought this would give him the opportunity to keep a closer eye on Sean," Adalind concluded, looking down at her book.

"Sounds like him," Monroe murmured.

"But why wouldn't he say anything to anyone?" Rosalee asked the group.

"Maybe the captain threatened to take Diana away?" Hank suggested.

"Who knows," Adalind said. "He knows more about this situation than he's letting on. I don't know what he exacted out of Nick in exchange, but I'm pretty sure that our getting custody of Diana without a fight was at the center of it."

"Where's Diana now?" Eve asked.

"With Sean's mother," Adalind said, trying to quell the fear that threatened without having both her children within sight. "Her powers—she's worried, she knows something's up with Nick, and when she gets upset— "

Eve nodded. "I've seen them."

"I don't mean to worry you, Adalind, but suddenly I'm not so sure that if the captain is behind whatever happened to Nick that he should or anyone related to him should have your daughter," Monroe said slowly.

"Agreed," Wu chimed in.

"Elizabeth's supposed to bring her back to the hospital tonight," Adalind said.

"We need to find out what the captain was meeting with this Newton/Sudcliffe for," Hank said.

"What happened exactly with Nick and Sudcliffe?" Adalind asked. "How did they even come into contact with each other that day? Was Sudcliffe the suspect you were chasing, or was he one of the ones that ambushed Nick?"

"Oh, he was the one Nick was chasing," Wu said.

"What?" Rosalee exclaimed. "So Nick knew that it was Sudcliffe he was going after, but you guys had no idea who it was?"

"Yeah," Wu affirmed.

"He never said anything?"

"We never got an ID on who exactly our suspect was, but when we got the call with a suspect matching the description and we got there—Nick must have recognized it was him."

"Had to," Hank agreed. "Nick took off running before Wu or I even realized he was gone. He had to have known it was Sudcliffe or Newton, or whoever, as soon as he saw him."

"Sudcliffe definitely knew it was Nick when _he_ saw _him_."

"Had they ever seen each other? From before?" Rosalee asked, referring to when Adalind and Eve had been kidnapped by Sudcliffe and Louis Parker.

Hank shook his head. "Not from then," Hank said. "Unless they've met sometime since between then."

"Nick didn't even know about Sudcliffe until I mentioned him after giving my statement at the station," Adalind said, "And he said they never recovered anything that led them to believe anyone other than Louis had orchestrated the whole thing."

"Sudcliffe was in the wind by the time we found you," Hank confirmed. "Nick tried to find out more information but we never got anywhere with the follow up and everything led to dead ends. I think it's about time we had a chat with the captain about what he knows," Hank said, looking at Monroe and Wu.

"Agreed," Eve said and the guys looked at her. "You have everything in order here?" she asked Adalind and Rosalee and Adalind nodded.

"Just need to find the recipe I'm looking for. It's in here…somewhere," she said with more confidence than she felt.

"Good. I'm coming with you," she said to Hank and Wu.

"Whoa! This is a police matter," Hank said.

"It's a Wesen matter, and I can be far more persuasive than you if necessary," and Wu raised his eyebrows at Eve's comment but looked at Hank as though she might have a point as Eve stared at Hank intensely. "Don't bother arguing, it's a waste of time. Time we don't have with Nick," she added and Hank relented.

"Good, then I'm coming with you, too," Monroe said, though judging by the look Hank had given him he didn't think Hank had any other plan than that for Monroe.

"Fine, first things first. Let's locate the captain."

%%%%%%%%%

"It doesn't make sense," Rosalee said suddenly.

Adalind looked up from where she was flipping through the last of her mother's zaubertrank. "It _has_ to be in here. I know I saw it in here," she muttered to herself. "What doesn't?"

"Why the captain would have someone try to kill Nick. I mean, doesn't he need him?"

"He's always been interested in having a Grimm under his thumb," Adalind said. "Maybe Nick tried to get out from under it and Sean objected." It wasn't as farfetched as Rosalee thought, though she did have a point. Sean had always worked hard—trying to kill his aunt, exhibit A—to keep Nick on his side, worked to appear trustworthy, that they were both fighting on the same side for the same thing. However, Sean could be ruthless, and it was absolutely like him to have someone else do his dirty work to take care of any problems—trying to kill his aunt, exhibit B. However, he usually preferred a few more degrees of separation between him and his enforcer.

"You think maybe Sudcliffe is trying to control the captain?" Rosalee asked her and Adalind shrugged.

"As far as I'm concerned the reason my husband is dying in a hospital right now is all because of Sean."

"I know. I know, it looks...it looks bad," Rosalee agreed, "but I wonder if there's more to it than we think."

"We won't know until Sean tells us what's going on, and you can bet that whatever he tells us will only be the part of the truth he wants us to know. Oh my-" Adalind gasped, running her finger over the script on the page. "Oh my god, I think I found it," Adalind said, looking up at Rosalee. Rosalee's eyebrows shot up and she hurried around the workbench next to Adalind to lean over the page.

"Yes, this is it!" Adalind crowed, feeling hopeful for the first time in days. "Oh no," she said, as she read further.

"Oh no? What oh no? No, no, no, there can't be an oh no. What?"

"It says we need four quills from the stachelig qualle," Adalind told Rosalee and Rosalee frowned.

"Maybe Hank and Wu found some at the scene?"

"Maybe the four that stabbed Nick," Adalind murmured.

"Maybe stachelig qualle stab their victims four times?" Rosalee guessed.

"Who knows, I'm sure Nick would have something in his books," Adalind muttered.

"You mean if Juliette hadn't burned them? What do we know about stachelig qualle?"

"That we don't already need to? They're deadly, and Nick's time is running out. Rosalee, we have to find these, or Sudcliffe, or Nick will die," she said, her voice rising with each word.

"We'll find them," Rosalee promised. "Surely there's a black market seller somewhere," she added, though she wasn't all that sure. Was there really a demand for stachelig qualle quills? It's not like they were anything that anyone would want to toy with. Maybe someone might want them if they were trying to kill someone with them, although, she was pretty sure the quills had to be connected to the stachelig qualle in order for them to poison their victim.

"Let's not panic just yet. Let's just call Hank or Wu and find out if they found any at the scene, and we'll go from there," Rosalee said and Adalind nodded.

%%%%%%%%

"You need what?" Wu said over the phone.

"Quills. Did you find any, like, really long, sharp, quill-like things at the crime scene?" Adalind cut in impatiently. "They would almost be as long as like a steak knife maybe, sort of shaped a little like it, I think," she added, but her voice rose questioningly at the end and she glanced at Rosalee for help. Rosalee made a face.

"Oh-kay," Wu replied with a sigh.

"I don't know, I've only ever seen a woged stachelig qualle illustrated in a book, I'm not really sure what they look like in person," Adalind defended. Rosalee shook her head.

"I've never seen one either, sorry, I'm not exactly sure what they look like either. Sorry, Wu, wish I could be more help."

"I'll check with CSU and see if they recovered anything strange from the scene."

"What are they looking for?" Adalind heard Hank ask.

"Quills," Wu replied. "Hey!"

"Rosalee," Eve's voice came on a moment later. "Trubel and I recovered one at the crime scene," Eve told her and Adalind expelled a loud breath.

"Show it to Wu and Hank, or get a picture of it," Rosalee directed. "Hopefully there's three more just like it sitting in an evidence bag." Rosalee looked at Adalind with an encouraging expression.

"Have you found Sean?" Adalind asked as they both hovered over her iPhone speaker.

"Not yet, but we are zeroing in on a location as we speak," Wu replied, evidently having snatched his phone back from Eve.

Adalind's phone beeped and she glanced down, feeling a cold sweat break over her when she saw it was Trubel calling.

"Okay, I—I gotta go," she said, and quickly disconnected before Wu could reply. "Trubel?" Adalind said when she picked up the other line.

"Hey, I, uh, I think you need to get back down here," Trubel said and Adalind looked at Rosalee fearfully.

"Okay, I'm on my way," she replied, looking towards the bed where Kelly still napped.

"Go, I got him," Rosalee said.

"The antidote?"

"I got it too. Go."

"Okay, what's going on?" she asked Trubel feeling her heart pounding painfully in her chest.

"Nick's heart stopped again," Trubel said unevenly.

"Did they—did they get it going again?" Adalind asked, slowing before she reached the door to the outside.

"Yeah, eventually, but-" Trubel broke off, and then resumed after a moment. "But the doctors want to talk to you," she finished, and Adalind nodded after a moment, although Trubel couldn't see it.

"I'm on my way," she said with another worried look exchanged with Rosalee.

%%%%%%%%

She was quiet for a moment, listening to the ventilator pump air in and out of Nick's lungs. Trubel stood beside her, arms folded around herself, obviously emotional but Adalind couldn't find it in herself to feel anything but the numbness that had taken root as she had listened to what the doctor told her, her mind going over the injustice of it all.

They had found the cure, but it might not matter anyway.

He appeared to have permanent damage now to the heart muscle. Assuming he survived, he would likely need a heart transplant. Given everything else failing in his body, the kidneys, his lung, the infection, as the doctors understood it, raging in the wounds—the tod ranken-he would not be a good candidate for recommendation to the transplant list. Nick would die, whether they could administer the cure or not.

"Could the muscle repair itself?" Adalind asked, after a long moment trying to understand a way around it but all that registered was after everything she was going to lose Nick when his heart eventually failed.

"There's been some studies in mice and stem cell research where there's been some encouraging results, but none of those procedures have ever been tested or approved for humans. Once the muscle is dead it doesn't regenerate." Adalind nodded, but privately she wondered. Nick wasn't just an average human, but would his ability as a Grimm to heal more quickly be able to overcome this? She recalled Nick's aunt had been dying of cancer, and her body had not been able to overcome that, though she had lived far longer than expected maybe because of it. Perhaps what was being asked of his body to do was too great for his abilities.

If they stopped the tod ranken, he would still be in agony if he lived and had only half the life he had before him. He would no longer be able to perform his duties as a cop, as a Grimm, as a father and husband with damaged heart muscle. Permanently weakened, and likely bed-ridden, waiting for a slow death to finally put him out of his misery.

She closed her eyes and felt moisture slide down her cheek. She should just let him go? Was it only selfishness to administer the cure and then hope against all logic that he might be able to return to even a fraction of the Nick she knew and loved? Because she needed him and didn't want to say goodbye, was it right to force him to stay alive for her? What was the right answer?

It was too much to make such a decision. To know all the times when they had been enemies and she had wanted him dead, that she now held the power to make that decision, and it was _awful_ having that kind of power. She suddenly didn't want it.

They were asking Adalind to make the difficult decision to take Nick off life support. To no longer take active measures to prolong his life. Let nature take its course and allow Nick to die as it seemed his body was fighting to do.

She felt Trubel awkwardly slide her arm around Adalind and she sobbed harder, covering her face with her hands. She heard the doctor murmur quietly that he would give them a few moments, and he slipped out of the room. Trubel gripped her tighter, and sniffled loudly.

"We can't give up on Nick," Trubel insisted, but Adalind wondered if it was as much giving up on Nick as it was giving him the gift of letting go. Trubel had only seen his heart stop once. She had not gone through this four times now, each time stubbornly resuscitating but at a steep price as more and more of the rest of his body failed him. The effort to keep him alive was damaging the very organ that they needed to remain functioning as though it was determined despite all medical advancements and machinery to the contrary to fail.

There was still brain activity, one sole point of solace in the argument to keep him alive a little longer, but it wasn't much.

"Thank you for staying with him," Adalind said to Trubel after a long moment when she just grieved over the decision she was going to have to make.

"Adalind, you said you found the antidote. All we have to do is get the ingredients together and we can save Nick."

 _Can we?_ She had wanted to believe that but now after talking with the doctor she wondered if that was realistic. Not to mention they still needed three more quills to even make the antidote and she hadn't heard from Rosalee or anyone whether they had been found.

"Nick wouldn't give up on us," Trubel added and Adalind stared at her husband without expression. No, he normally wouldn't, but even Nick had been forced to face his reality with Juliette as a Hexenbiest when all other options had failed him.

 _I'm not giving up on you,_ Adalind silently communicated, _but I don't know what else to do. I think the decision is yours whether you want to hang on,_ and Adalind was hit with another wave of anguish, that maybe, all along these last four times, he had been trying to tell her he needed to let go.

 _Okay. Okay,_ she thought and felt her legs shaking. _If that's what you want, I won't force you to stay alive anymore._

The next time his heart stopped it would be for good.

%%%%

AN: (Runs and hides)


	7. Chapter 7

"Ugh," he groaned.

"Nick? Nicky?"

"Mom?" he answered back strangely, his voice not sounding his own. He shifted and realized he was lying on the cold tile floor.

"Slowly," his mother cautioned and he opened one eye as he came to awareness as he attempted to sit up and met his Aunt Marie's concerned gaze hovering over him.

"Aunt Marie?" he said in surprise and then glanced around him in confusion. "What happened?" He managed an upright position, his mother and aunt hovering on either side of him, as he took a moment to rest, before contemplating getting to his feet.

"I think…you may have died again," Marie said with a frown, and Nick opened his other eye, awareness abruptly flooding his mind. He stared at his aunt.

"What?"

"Looked like a seizure," his mother asked, looking at Marie, and Marie shrugged and nodded.

"The poison's spreading. It's starting to compromise him more severely."

The poison, right. The…stachelig…something. Death tendrils. He remembered suddenly the him that was lying in the hospital bed, only a few feet away and Nick shakily got to his feet to take a look. He swallowed thickly as he took himself in. He looked, well, dead, or as close to it as one could be without actually being dead, Nick supposed, but regardless, it didn't look promising. It looked like there were more machines than before crowding around his hospital bed, too, if that were possible.

"That means he doesn't have much time," his mother noted and he turned to look at her, the worry and fear etched in her face as she looked him over carefully, avoiding his eyes, her attention pulled to the body lying in the bed next to them.

What did this make? The third or fourth time he had died? Jesus, what Adalind must be going through. She had lost everyone close to her, too. Her father had left her when she was a child, her mother—well, there were some mixed emotions about that, he knew—then Renard had dumped her when he found out Nick had taken her powers—her identity—and whatever his feelings about his captain it didn't change the fact Adalind had loved him once and had felt that rejection keenly. That the loss of her powers had been another loss, a loss of herself, and he could attest to that sensation, and then of course Diana had been taken from her before she had been found and placed rightfully back with her mother.

He didn't think she would handle the loss of her husband very well, not that Nick would handle the loss of his wife any better if the situation was reversed. Adalind had lived a lonely and at times angry existence for a long time before her life with Nick. While it was true she was no longer a Hexenbiest he still wondered what kind of person she would revert to if she lost Nick. Would she stay strong and positive for the sake of their children or let the pain and bitterness consume her? Pain and bitterness had driven her actions before, though she had come a long way from that person.

He drifted over to the bed, staring down at his body, and for the first time he saw the tod ranken, the inky black poison staining his veins as it ebbed closer to his heart. He heard his mother and aunt confer quietly behind him, but his attention remained frozen on the sight before him.

 _This must be what Adalind sees,_ he thought, and it wasn't encouraging. He wondered if she was starting to lose hope, the pang of despair that she might lose her husband and the father of her children after a long time cobbling together the happiness they had fought so hard for.

He had wanted a life with her, a lifetime. Thought with a snort, that apparently his lifetime wasn't as long as he had imagined it to be. Dead at thirty-six. He was kind of thinking more along the lines of Sixty-six. Rolek had at least been that old when he had finally passed, or close to it. His own mother in her middle fifties. His aunt, only a few years younger when she had died. Maybe he was stretching the goal a little bit with the apparent longevity of his family, but middle thirties just seemed an insult. He was only just figuring out his life and finding contentment and now it had all been ripped away from them.

"I must have done something right."

He glanced up in surprise at the unfamiliar voice and noted a woman standing on the opposite side of the hospital bed, peering over his prone form, blond hair to her chin, mid-forties, perhaps? Where the hell had she come from? He felt his surprise register when he recognized her.

"You," she replied with a hiss when she looked up, as her eyes narrowed on something behind him and he registered his mother and aunt coming to stand a few feet away from him.

"You," his mother murmured guardedly and Nick straightened when the woman's eyes flicked back to him.

"Catherine," he acknowledged, and she grinned coldly.

"Well, well. Looks like I'm not the only one who's dead," she said. She looked past Nick to Marie and narrowed her eyes again.

"Who the hell are you?" she asked Marie rudely.

"Who the hell are you?" Marie returned.

"This is Catherine. Catherine Schade," he said slowly, feeling as though it was his duty to make introductions. "Catherine, this is my aunt, Marie Kessler, and I believe you remember my mother," he added mildly. She glared hatefully, first at Nick then at his mother.

"You killed me," she accused.

"Technically you killed yourself," his mother returned smoothly. "You impaled yourself on a shard of glass from the mirror."

"The mirror you threw me into?"

"Well, again, you only had yourself to blame. You tried to attack me."

"No, I had you—" she levelled her gaze at Nick, "and Adalind to blame. You came to my home looking for her, both of you," she said accusingly, as she transferred her gaze back to Nick.

"Adalind?"

"Adalind as in-?" Marie cut in looking at Nick. Nick waved his hand and nodded.

"My daughter," Catherine returned coldly, glancing at Marie, and Nick felt his aunt's eyes on him.

"Right, of course, your daughter. So that would make you his—" Marie continued, still trying to work it out.

"His worst enemy," Catherine spat. "You defiled my daughter," she accused, turning her attention fully to Nick. "What you did to her was unforgiveable. You deserved every piece of misery she could inflict on you."

 _Oh, boy,_ Nick thought.

"Uh, what did you do, exactly?" Marie asked him.

"I took away her powers."

"The blood of a Grimm," his mother added.

"How'd you manage that?" Marie interjected, and Nick cringed slightly.

"Yes, how did you manage that," Catherine demanded. "I thought my daughter would have been smart enough to avoid whatever pathetic attempt you used." Yes, that had been Monroe and Rosalee's and Nick's thoughts as well, when they had discussed how to administer his blood. He needed the element of surprise, and her powers were so strong that he wasn't sure he could fire a bolt from the crossbow on her without her somehow deflecting the weapon. She would have been expecting that, so he thought of a different route.

"I, um, I kissed her."

"What?!" his mother and Catherine demanded. His mother looked shocked, to say the least, Catherine, repulsed.

"Interesting approach," his aunt commented dryly, crossing her arms over her chest and raising an eyebrow for him to continue. "Normally I just shoot them with the crossbow, but hey, I suppose kissing is another way to go. I'm sure it's almost as fun, too."

"It worked," Nick defended. Almost too well. There had been a moment-just a flicker of an instance-when he had caught Adalind by surprise where he had panicked as he wondered if she might kiss him back. He wasn't sure what he would have done had that been the case. Made out with her on the forest floor? He knew enough now about their relationship to know how explosive they could be, that they were ruled by emotions and heart, not their heads and logic. That if he had allowed himself to slip in his resolve, just a little. That the sexual attraction between them was always just simmering below the surface, waiting to erupt at the right moment.

She was a fantastic kisser and he doubted it would have stopped there. One thing his relationship with Adalind had revealed was how easily he could get carried away with her, and vice versa, whether it was killing each other or screwing it each other senseless.

"You forced yourself on my daughter?"

"Uh, a little bit," he admitted. "She bit me, which was what I was hoping she would do," he added. He did not add that she only bit him after a long moment of panic where they both probably debated what to do next now that they were lip locked. He had been a little bit stunned by the jolt of electricity that went through him—had attributed it to her and him and their Grimm and Wesen nature, but now he knew it had been that subtle, suppressed, attraction between them igniting.

"So she—" his aunt broke in, pointing at Catherine, "Has no idea— "

"No," Nick cut in, shaking his head at Marie, hoping to delay the inevitable. "Adalind and her mother had been working with Renard to try to obtain the key you gave me."

"Your captain, the royal?"

"Yes."

"Ah, figured that out, did you?" Catherine sneered. "Find out any other really interesting tidbits about your captain?"

"That he's half-Zauberbiest? Yeah, I'm up to speed," Nick said dryly. Catherine smirked.

"How's Juliette?" Catherine added with another sneer and his mother glared at her.

"You mean, did she ever come out of the coma Adalind put her in? Yes, you knew that, though. You gave Renard the cure."

"I gave it to him but I didn't live long enough—" she cast another spiteful gaze at his mother—"to see what he did with it. Bet that was fun. One of Adalind's better ideas, I have to admit. What it must have been like to know that someone you loved so much wouldn't even remember you if she ever woke up. That you couldn't save her, and that the one person who could she would be so attracted to, it would be like you never existed. Sorry I missed it," she added with mock sympathy.

"Shame," he agreed.

"Did you and your poor Juliette ever recover?"

"Yeah, we went out for a couple of more years after that before I found somebody else and had a baby with her and we got married."

"Oh? Who's the lucky soon-to-be widow?"

"Your daughter."

Nick suppressed a sneer of his own at Catherine's expression. Technically it wasn't funny, so close to the truth. Still. _Joke's on you_ , Nick thought. _I go home to your beautiful daughter and our children every night_.

"What?" she spat after a moment of looking like she had swallowed her own tongue. Horrified, she looked at Nick, then his aunt and his mother, before returning her disbelieving stare back to him.

"Adalind."

"Adalind's your daughter," Marie said slowly, "which makes you his mother-in-law," she said to Catherine who gaped at her in shock, and Nick nodded.

"What?" Catherine said again quietly.

"Adalind and I had a baby and got married," he said again.

"What? No. No," Catherine said again, horrified. "What did you do to her?"

"Nothing," Nick said. He hadn't done anything to her that she wasn't a willing, or instigating, party to in the case of Kelly, at least.

"You've ruined her," Catherine said hoarsely. "First you take her powers away. Then you force yourself like that on her? There's no way my daughter would ever-"

"Excuse me?" his mother cut in. " _My_ son wouldn't do such a thing. Your daughter on the other hand…"

Nick rolled his eyes, not wanting to relive the afternoon Adalind had tricked him into sleeping with her with his mother, aunt, and mother-in-law as an audience. There were a lot of complicated feelings related to that afternoon, not the least of which as the years passed was the feeling that he wasn't sorry it had happened. There was, of course, Kelly that resulted, and though it had kick started the demise of his relationship with Juliette, it had set in motion his eventual relationship with Adalind. After a lot of soul searching and needless guilt he could finally admit he found his relationship with Adalind more fulfilling than what he had had with Juliette. As a result, he found himself filled with less and less regret over what had happened between them that afternoon.

"She's fine," Nick said instead. "We had a nice afternoon together that I didn't find out about until later when I found out about our son, but I'm sorry to tell you she's not in a relationship with me against her will. It's entirely consensual."

"Your son? You have a son together?" Nick nodded.

"Your child, your—your relationship—is an abomination," Catherine said and Nick frowned angrily, eyes growing darker and Catherine reflexively took a step back. "My daughter's life is at risk for what she's done with you."

"Your daughter's a Hexenbiest, or at least she used to be, if her life is at risk it's because of things she's done herself," his mother cut in and Catherine flicked her eyes to her.

"You took that away from her. You made her life at risk. She's vulnerable to other Wesen, and now she's had a child with a Grimm? She'll be hunted. The child will be hunted."

"Nobody's getting anywhere near Adalind or our son."

"Really? How are you going to stop it?" Catherine snapped. "You're here, soon to be dead with me!"

Nick snapped his mouth shut, the words of denial freezing on his tongue. He took a deep breath, trying to quell the fear of what might become of Kelly and Adalind and Diana if he wasn't there to protect them. Trubel, Monroe, Rosalee and the others, they would do their best, he told himself. He hoped it would be enough to keep his family safe.

"I'm not dead yet," he said after a long moment.

"Not much hope there," Catherine said. "It's only a matter of time."

%%%%%

There was a long period of silence after that remark. Catherine's eyes drifting back to the body on the bed, Nick's following.

"What happens if I do die? Does all of this stop?" he asked the other occupants in the room, indicating whatever dimension they appeared to be stuck in. No one answered right away.

"I don't know," Marie said. "I'm not sure what this is or how we're all here together or why. You seem to be the common denominator, though," she said to Nick, looking at Catherine. Yes, Marie had never, to his knowledge, met Catherine. Only Nick and Adalind had known all three, and he could only imagine his relationship with Adalind was why he was seeing her dead mother now, though their interaction just didn't make sense.

Why was she here?

Why were any of them here?

Why was he? They were all dead. So did that mean he was dead? Yet, there he was, lying in a hospital bed across from him all intents and purposes still technically, barely, alive?

"I need to know what's going on," he muttered to himself, but Catherine responded.

"You're trapped in the void," Catherine said and he looked at her with interest.

"What?'

"Hovering between life and death. You're piercing the veil, so to speak. Able to see both sides."

 _But why am I seeing you? My aunt and my mother? Haven't they at least passed on to wherever the dead go when they die?_

"So why are you here? And them?" Nick asked her and Catherine looked up at him and shrugged.

"Who says we are?"

"What?" he asked, flummoxed. _You just did, didn't you?_ But hadn't his mother tried to tell him the same thing. Hadn't _he_ thought the same thing? _You're not really here_. No. No, no, no, no, no.

It didn't make sense. Nothing made sense. They were real, maybe non-corporeal, but they were really there with him. He had touched them, hugged his aunt, felt her arms around him. His mother's touch on his face. He looked at his aunt and his mother, two of the most influential people in his life. Both had-literally in his mother's case—helped to make him, shaped what he would become. He looked at Catherine—the mother of the Hexenbiest that would wreak all kinds of havoc in his adult life before becoming such an integral and beloved part of it.

"Why are you here?" he asked again. Catherine sighed in annoyance.

"Fine, you don't like my answer? You tell me."

"I don't know why you're here," Nick snapped. "If I knew, I wouldn't have to ask you."

"Then I guess you're stuck wondering," Catherine snapped back, blue eyes icy.

"Is it because of my relationship with Adalind?" he ventured. "It has to be," he murmured. "Why else would you be here?"

"I don't approve of your _relationship_ with my daughter."

"Join the club," Nick retorted, waving to his mom and aunt.

"Nobody does," his mother said.

"Uh-uh," his aunt agreed.

"She could have married royalty if she had played her cards right, until _you_ got to her," Catherine added with a sniff. "Found someone better to align herself with. Not some _Grimm_ and some scruffy-looking low-level detective."

"Excuse me?" his mother cut in heatedly.

"Too bad she and Sean couldn't have worked it out," Catherine added.

"Well, there was the fact you sort of pushed her into the whole thing. Then the fact he dumped her as soon as she lost her powers and ceased to be any use to him," Nick cut in dryly.

"That was your fault," Catherine returned.

"And let's not forget the fact you were sleeping with him at the same time she was, unbeknownst to her. I'd say that relationship was doomed from the start. Not sure why you thought there'd be much hope there for happiness."

"Happiness? She could have been one of the most feared and respected members of one of the most powerful royal families. She would be circulating amongst the elite, instead of rubbing shoulders with the dregs of society with you. You're telling me she finds the people you associate with fulfilling? That she's _happy_ with you?"

"Yes," Nick said simply. "She is."

"Ha," Catherine snorted. "Then she's not the daughter I raised."

"No, she's not," Nick agreed. "Despite your influence, she's turned into something much better."

Catherine snapped her jaw shut and glared. Nick returned the look.

"We don't need your approval," Nick said. "Any of you," he added, including his aunt and mother. "We're quite aware most people wouldn't get our relationship, knowing our history, but we also don't give a damn what anyone else thinks. I am not dying on my wife, or my children, this early in the game, so unless you're going to help me figure out what's going on here you can just-" Nick waved his hand to in the air above him-"disappear to wherever the hell you came from." Nick turned away from Catherine and back to his mother and aunt.

"Children? What do you mean children? I thought you just said you only had a son?"

He sighed and looked skyward. Debated on answering.

"No, we have a daughter, too, Adalind's from a previous relationship."

"What previous relationship?"

"Sean," Nick replied tiredly.

"My daughter had a child with a Royal?"

"Yes," Nick replied. "Can we focus here?"

"And she's with you? Why isn't she with Sean, or the royals where she belongs? She's the mother of the future heir to the throne."

"Because-" Nick snapped and then stopped. "It's complicated, and she's not in love with Sean, she's in love with me, hard as it is for you all to believe." Nick turned back to his family, standing near the doorway and his expression froze when he caught sight of a figure standing beyond them, hesitantly paused at the door.

His mother frowned, and turned to look behind her as well.

Adalind glanced nervously around the room and stepped in.

%%%%%

"Adalind," he breathed, taking her in. She looked exhausted, and sick, probably from all the worry she was experiencing over him. Her hair was messy and unkempt, her face was free from makeup, eyes puffy and red, as though she had been crying, and her clothes were wrinkled as though she had slept in them.

She wandered slowly around the room, eyes locked on Nick.

The Nick behind him, lying in the hospital bed, he realized.

"Adalind?" he tried, falling into step beside her. "Adalind?" He had to stop following when her path wound up almost running him into the foot of the bed. Instead, he stood on one side as she stood on the other, next to her mother, who gaped at her with a stunned look on her face.

"Adalind!"

"She can't hear you, Nick," his mother murmured behind him, and he looked at her anxiously. He looked back at his wife, the disheartened expression on her face and watched her slowly run her fingers down the arm of the unconscious version of him. His arm tingled and burned and he glanced at in wonder.

"Nick," she whispered brokenly and Nick felt an ache in his chest where his heart should be at her tone. Her mother continued to stare at her wordlessly.

"Adalind," he replied helplessly, but his mother was right. She made no acknowledgment to anything or anyone else in the room but the body lying on the bed. She threaded her fingers with his, careful of the wires and sensors his body was attached to, and then collapsed into a chair pulled next to the bed and breathed in a, long, shuddering breath. His arm where they were attached, moved limply as she gripped his hand tight.

She brought her other hand to cover his, and rested her cheek on them. She stared at his slack face, half covered by the breathing tube they had shoved down his throat, before turning to place a kiss on their entwined hands. Nick watched a tear slide down her cheek, then another, and she pressed her forehead against their hands and began to cry in earnest.

If he wasn't already dead, or near dead, he felt another part of him die watching her so obviously discouraged by his lack of improvement. He felt the unwelcome niggling of doubt that his friends would come through with the cure in time, that he might really die and leave her and their family alone.

"I have so much to tell you," she choked out. "I kept waiting and hoping-" she broke off abruptly, and took a deep breath, and then another, trying to get herself under control again. She hated crying, hated the feeling of helplessness it gave her. It wasn't in her nature to sit back and let things happen to her, to have no control over something. Catherine eyed her daughter incredulously, as though she could not fathom who this weepy incarnation of Adalind could be. Her gaze kept returning to the entwined hands.

"The doctor said that even if you do regain consciousness that your heart-" she broke off again, another sob overtaking her. "-your heart has permanent damage."

Nick felt cold seep down deep into him. He stared at her wordlessly, mind refusing to comprehend what she was saying.

"Even if we wind up somehow saving you from the poison, we may not be able to save you in the end, anyway." He swallowed thickly.

"They want me to—to—dammit," she whispered to herself, and he felt moisture in his own eyes looking at her.

"Damn you," she said to him and the ache in his chest intensified. "You should have never-" she broke off again, unable to continue for a long moment and he reached shakily over the bed, over his body, to touch her.

"I'm pregnant," she said, and his hand dropped abruptly before making contact. "I was going to tell you. I kept trying to think of some cute, special, way to surprise you with it. Not that it matters now," she said bitterly. "You're going to die and I'll be left to go through it all alone."

His vision blurred for a moment, blinded by the moisture in his eyes and he blinked them away and focused on her.

"I'm a couple months along now," she continued after a thick silence. "Probably that time we—well, anyway, not that that's important," she muttered. "It's a little sooner than we talked about adding to our family, and I know we're still trying to figure out everything with Diana, but I thought, maybe, you'd be happy regardless."

He was…surprised. It was quite a bit sooner than they had originally talked about. His mind darted back to two months ago. Recalled a spectacular evening spent together after Adalind had gotten a little tipsy at one of her office parties after closing a huge case for a client, and Nick had taken advantage (she had rather aggressively encouraged it). Flushed slightly when he thought of another instance a week and a half or so later when she had been exhausted from work and taking care of two sick children and Nick had been tired and frustrated himself from work and the Wall, and of being neglected of her singular attention. It had been rather perfunctory and less than spectacular and he hoped the baby she was now pregnant with resulted from the first scenario, and not the one where she had basically had sex with him just to shut him up.

Still, he wasn't unhappy. They had both wanted more children one day—at least one more. He looked at her face again and for the first time recognized the pallor of her skin might be due to morning sickness and not just worry over the fate of her husband. He was struck suddenly with the thought she had been sick a few times in the last couple of weeks, once in the morning, he thought, and a couple of times in the evening when he had been home, passing it off as a stomach bug, but in the last week or so he hadn't been home until late, and usually gone into work early in the morning, sometimes before she was even up and stirring.

He hadn't noticed anything amiss because she had been happy, he realized. The way she had looked at him, when he was exhausted and mentally spent from his day, she was content; the knowledge of the secret she carried, waiting for the right opportunity to share, and he wished she had just told him.

He looked away from her, the sight of the pain on her face too much to bear. He didn't want her to have to go it alone, either. This was not how he had envisioned them pregnant with their next child. Him lying unconscious, hovering near death, and her having to contemplate how she would get through the next seven months without the father of her baby, while trying to take care of two more children.

"I wish you would have told me," she said in the silence that had taken root again. He looked back at her in confusion.

"What?"

"What Sean promised you. What you had to promise him in exchange," she added, though she hadn't heard him. He felt another wave of cold wash over him. "You shouldn't have done that," she said. Catherine looked up from her daughter, eyes narrow, and he felt his mother and his aunt look at him curiously as well.

"What did you promise him?" his mother prompted suspiciously, but Nick shook his head distractedly, focused on Adalind.

Had Renard told her? He shook his head again, though she couldn't see it. He didn't think Renard would say anything, but maybe Hank and Wu had started to put it together. Perhaps the Wall had started to realize something was amiss, too. It was incredible that he had gone this long without their interference.

"I know you probably thought you were doing the right thing, but I'm going to lose my husband because of it, and it just—it wasn't worth it. The court would have decided custody, whatever it was, and even if I didn't like it I would have accepted it. Eventually."

Crap, she knew about that? Christ, if he lived he would never hear the end of this.

If he died Adalind would blame Renard for the whole thing.

"I did it for you," he defended, aware of how weak it sounded; how pointless since she couldn't hear him anyway. _You're worth it. Diana's worth it._ No, she was wrong. He did the right thing, whether she wanted to see that or not, but he was sorry this was the situation that ultimately resulted because of it. He could see how maybe she might not be convinced.

"I don't think the scoobies are going to be able to save you," she said morosely, and he heard his mother make a sound behind him. He looked back, found his aunt gripping his mother's arm tightly.

"I tried to help them. I found the recipe, but we don't have the key ingredients we need, and even if we do, from what the doctor is saying…it doesn't look good, Nick. Even if it stops the poison, they're not going to be able to do anything about the damage already done to your heart, the lung and your liver, and everything else. They said your kidneys started failing after this last time. That means you're not a good candidate for a transplant," and Nick jolted at her comment, the extent of his injuries—how bad off he was—finally registering.

He looked pensively at his other self, eyes running over his wounds, the tubes, the wires, the machines he was connected to.

"I think you've been trying to tell me you're ready to let go," she said, emotion clogging her throat and Nick slowly shook his head. "And I've been forcing you to hang on, so," she began and then stopped, trying to get a hold of her emotions, and Nick eyed her with dread. "I'm not going to force your body to keep living. We've—I've—made the decision that if your heart stops again—" she paused to take a deep, unsteady breath, "—I'm going to let you go."

Nick stared at her, watching her bow her blonde head as she tried to wrest her emotions under control.

"I love you," she choked out. "So much, you have no idea. I don't want to raise this baby or our children alone," she cried, "but I don't want to see you forced to live half a life, or no life, because I was selfish and didn't want to let you go. You can let go," she whispered. "It's okay. It's okay. We'll all be okay," she promised quietly. "You can let go, Nick. It's okay."

%%%%%%%%

The fuck it was okay. That he was okay. He didn't want to let go, in fact he found himself terrified that somehow the unconscious him would hear her and listen. He shook his head more furiously.

"No, no, no," he said, but of course she couldn't hear him.

"Nick—" his mother said.

"No!" he shouted, reeling on his mother when she tried to touch his arm.

"Nick I'm sorry—" his mother began and he angrily cut her off.

"No! Just stop. It's not fucking okay," he shouted. His aunt raised an eyebrow but said nothing, watching him rail about the room, while Catherine only had eyes for her daughter. He swiped at a potted plant, _get well soon_ card visible among the greenery, and knocked it off the window sill with a satisfying crunch. Adalind whirled and gasped and Nick's head shot up sharply from the mess on the floor to her face.

"Adalind?" he said, stepping forward but she looked right through him and he realized disappointedly that she still couldn't hear him. Still, she had heard and seen that.

"She can't hear you," Catherine said.

"But she heard that, she saw that," he insisted. "Which means maybe I can let her know somehow to hang on."

"It's not her that needs to hang on, it's you," Catherine retorted. He looked at her with a frown. "She's not going to give up unless your heart gives out again. So long as you hang on, she will, too."

"Right, we need to make sure your heart doesn't stop," Marie said, thinking.

"Or if it does that it gets started again on its own, because it sounds like she signed a DNR," his mother said, looking at him.

"What are the odds of that happening?" Nick asked them.

"Not good, given the amount of heart muscle damage she's indicating," Catherine said. "We need to fix that," she added, and Nick, Marie, and his mother stared at her. "And we need to convince her she still needs to give you the cure."

"Do you know how?" Marie demanded.

"We're all ears," his mother added.

"We need to establish some connection to her," Catherine said.

"What, like a séance?" Nick said, only instead of the living contacting the dead, theirs would be where the dead—or near dead—contacted the living. Wait a minute, didn't they call that haunting?

"No, not quite," Catherine replied snidely, as though he was an idiot.

"How?"

Catherine shook her head, watching Adalind carefully as Adalind hesitantly stood and approached the broken plant. She looked down at it, sniffling, toed a broken piece of ceramic before eyeing the sill it had been sitting on warily. She leaned down and picked up the shards, cautiously placing them in the palm of her hand as she collected the debris. Nick stared down at the top of her blonde head, remembering all the times he had run his fingers through it, loving the feel of the silkiness and softness of the strands against his fingertips.

Almost without realizing it, his hand reached for her tresses, but before he made contact she hissed and grabbed her hand, dropping the shards she had collected.

"Ow! Dammit," she muttered angrily, and Nick watched a drop of blood pool on the heel of her palm before running off the edge of her hand to the floor as another one followed.

Catherine smiled thinly.

"That's how."

%%%%%

"Ugh, what is it with you Hexenbiests and your blood spells?" his mother asked, and Catherine fixed her with a glare.

"My Hexenbiest blood spell is going to hopefully save your son," Catherine snapped and Nick stared at her with his arms folded over his chest as Marie hovered beside him.

"Hopefully?" Marie said.

"I've never done this before, you know. But it should work. I think. We'll just have to see."

 _Great_ , Nick thought. He eyed Catherine warily, wondering what she was about, but her gaze kept returning to Adalind when she thought no one was looking.

"So what exactly is her blood going to do?"

"We're going to use it, I hope, to sort of switch consciousness," Catherine said and Marie raised an eyebrow.

"What, like the Verfluchte Zwillingsschwester sort of did?" Nick asked and Catherine paused and stared at him.

"You've experienced that?"

"Yeah, Adalind cast it—it's what took away my powers," Nick said.

"You lost your Grimm?" she said, eyeing him carefully.

"Temporarily," he replied, eyeing her back.

"I'm sorry I didn't hear that story."

"Nothing to tell, really," Nick replied blithely, _except, oh, Kelly, Juliette-Hexenbiest, the death of that relationship, his mother, and raising a baby with a once sworn enemy._ "There were these godawful side effects. These blinding headaches—I could see things through her eyes and she could see through mine, like when we were literally a hemisphere apart."

"What?" his mother asked him sharply and Marie looked at him in concern.

"We can use that," Catherine said sharply. "If you've both been afflicted with the Zwillingsschwester this may make this whole thing a whole lot easier."

"Oh, we've both been afflicted," Nick said. "But I haven't experienced any of that in years."

"Doesn't matter," Catherine insisted.

"Okay, but how—ow!" he said, feeling a sharp pain on the inside of his forehead.

"What are you doing?" he heard his aunt ask sharply.

"Hold…still…" Catherine murmured.

"Agh!" he heard Adalind cry out.

"What are you doing?" his mother demanded again.

"Oh god," Nick moaned, recognizing what the pain heralded. _Shit, shit, shit, shit._ He had not missed this. He clutched his head with both hands and moaned painfully, falling to his knees. Not far away he heard Adalind crying out in pain.

"Agggghhh!"

"Nick? Nick?" he heard his mother shout as his skull throbbed painfully.

"Oh, god," he moaned. "Make it stop."

"Stop that! Stop it!"

"Just a few more seconds. "

"You're going to kill him!"

%%%%


	8. Chapter 8

%%%%%%

"Agghhhh!" she cried in agony, almost losing her balance. Jesus, it couldn't be. She hadn't had one of these damn headaches in ages, ever since Nick had gotten his Grimm back.

The pain abruptly subsided, catching her by surprise that she almost choked. She opened her eyes and jumped back in shock.

"Mom?" she whispered. Holy crap, did she have an aneurysm? She realized two other faces were crowding close.

"Did It work?" one of them asked and she gasped in surprise when she recognized the face.

"Kelly?"

"Adalind?" Kelly asked, and Adalind shot wide eyes to her companion, instinctively knowing the woman beside her was her sister.

"Marie?" she said in quiet disbelief. Marie stared back and nodded, and flashed what she guessed passed for a cold smile. "Am I dead?" she asked the group.

"Not quite," her mother said dryly. "You need to listen. We don't have much time. These things are always so unpredictable."

"Mom," she said, turning in flustered surprise. "I—" _Must have passed out_ , she thought. _I'm dreaming. Or hallucinating._

"Never mind that, Adalind. The antidote for the tod ranken," her mother said and Adalind felt her eyes widen comically.

"Wait a minute, you know about that?" she interrupted. "How? You're dead. All of you," she added, looking at the circle of faces. And she was seeing them. So how was she not dead? Did she hit her head?

"No, you didn't hit your head," her mother said impatiently.

"How did you know that's—" Adalind began incredulously, looking at Kelly and Marie.

"There's something special you have to do with it when you give it to Nick," her mother said, talking over her exasperatedly and Adalind slid her eyes back to her mother in shock.

"Nick?" she repeated, a touch of worry clouding her voice. Of course, why else would Kelly and Marie be there? Here? Wherever?

Why was her mother here?

She stared at her dumbfounded as her mother laid out the details for the antidote. Her mother was helping to save Nick's life? Did she understand what she was doing? The Grimm's whose own mother killed her.

Adalind's Grimm.

Did she understand what Nick was to her?

Impossible, she thought wildly, because she'd be clutching her stinging cheek if her mother knew that her daughter had fallen in love and married a Grimm. Had given him an heir, even; another on the way. Her mother wouldn't even look at her if she knew what all Adalind had done for Nick; with Nick.

"Adalind!" Her mother snapped, and she jumped guiltily. "Are you listening to me?" she demanded, and Adalind nodded hurriedly, old habits falling into place as though she still practiced them regularly.

"Of course," she managed, tuning back in. She didn't understand why her mother might be interested in saving Nick. It didn't make sense.

"Adalind," and Adalind turned her attention to Kelly, noting she looked exactly how she remembered her. No nonsense air about her, though her eyes glittered brightly with emotion, dark brown curly hair. Nick's hair was the same shade, though not curly, and his eyes were a pale shade of green, traits he apparently inherited from his father. Adalind flicked her eyes to her sister, Nick's beloved aunt, who had taken him in and raised him after his mother had "died", and noted distractedly that Nick apparently took after the Kessler side, as Marie shared the same dark hair as Kelly, though hers was straight, but she had sharp blue eyes. Adalind averted her eyes quickly as she saw recognition there.

Marie knew Adalind had tried to kill her.

"Adalind," Kelly said again and Adalind returned her attention back to her. "Your mother's right we don't have much time. You need to administer the cure as soon as possible, exactly as she said," and Adalind nodded again though privately despaired what was the point.

"We think this might help keep him alive," Kelly said. "It might save his heart."

 _Might._

"My son loves you very much," Kelly said with no emotion, as though she wasn't sure what to think about that, and Adalind's eyes darted to her mother's fearfully, expecting the castigation, but she merely frowned with deep disapproval but said nothing, eyes lingering over her face as though she couldn't believe she was seeing her. Adalind didn't know if the silence was worse. It was like she didn't exist, not the other way around.

"I know you love him, too," Kelly added and Adalind pulled her eyes away from her mother and back to Kelly, and nodded, eyes watering. The expression on Kelly's face didn't exactly look like approval either, but more like she was resigned to the fact she might now have a former Hexenbiest for a daughter-in-law. It was apparent, though, in both Kelly's and Marie's demeanor they thought Nick could do better than her.

Someone like Juliette had been.

"I do. Very much," she managed quietly, hoping to make them understand she was trying very hard to be the kind of person who deserved a man like Nick, and the love and affection he bestowed on her. "We have a baby together, a son," Adalind said. "We named him after you."

"I know," Kelly said and Adalind nodded confusedly.

"You'd better never betray my nephew's trust in you. I'm not sure what you did to turn his head around, but make no mistake: I don't trust you," Marie declared with a hint of threat and a dark look at her, and Adalind swallowed with difficulty and shook her head in agreement, while Kelly glanced at her sister.

"I won't, I promise."

"You'd better take damn good care of him," Kelly stated flatly. "Because he doesn't always do that," his mother added with less heat.

"I will. Have you—have you seen him?" she asked hesitantly. Afraid to know the answer, afraid to know that if Nick had seen them, his dead mother, his dead aunt; her dead mother—though she had no idea why he would see her?—and they him, that he was long for dead, too, that this whole thing was nothing but a cruel dream and that perhaps Nick already had one foot firmly in the grave. It was one thing to hear it from the doctor, that he might not survive long even if he regained consciousness and another to contemplate that he was trying to crossover while she agonized over what to do with him.

"Don't give up on my son just yet. He's got a lot to live for," Kelly said looking at Adalind with an expression that might be construed as compassion, and Adalind felt her brow wrinkle. Could she hear her thoughts? She winced when she felt something twinge in the side of her head, and then ducked forward when it swept through to the front in a stabbing throb, and Adalind screamed, the pain in her skull ratcheting up by a power of ten. She grabbed at the side of her head, moaning loudly, and curled up in pain. She became dimly aware of people around her, someone saying her name loudly but she only curled tighter and hoped her head wouldn't explode.

%%%%%%%%

"Is she all right?"

"I think so. Doctors aren't sure what happened. Found her on the floor in his room writhing in pain, clutching her head. They think it might be stress related."

"Oh, my god. How's Nick?"

"Not good. Doctors told Adalind he has permanent heart muscle damage. Adalind signed a DNR," she heard Trubel say, and she opened an eye, then the other as she came to awareness in a darkened room. She looked around and realized she was in a hospital bed.

"How's the antidote coming?"

"It's not," she heard Rosalee whisper. Adalind squinted at her arm in the dark and realized an IV was attached to it.

"What?"

"We need to find those other quills or we're not going to be able to save Nick."

"From what Adalind was saying, even with the antidote with the heart damage we may still not," Trubel said quietly.

"Oh my god," she heard Rosalee breathe.

"Have you heard from Hank or Wu?"

"Not since Adalind and I talked to them earlier. I tried calling, but…" Rosalee trailed off. "I haven't heard anything. I have no idea what's going on, where Monroe is—" her voice sounded emotional and Adalind frowned in the darkness, still trying to gather her wits.

"Hey, it will be okay. You said Eve went with them?"

"Yeah," Rosalee breathed.

"I wouldn't worry, just yet, then."

"How long has she been out?" Rosalee asked Trubel she heard the quiet shuffle of bodies, as they inched closer to look in on her.

"About four hours," Trubel said, and Adalind lurched into a sitting position. Four hours? _Nick!_ She couldn't be spending four hours lying about. Not when Nick might not have four hours left.

"Adalind?" The light came on and Adalind moaned.

The sudden change in position left Adalind's head spinning. Her head still throbbed with a dull ache from…whatever had happened earlier. Couldn't have been a Verfluchte Zwillingsschwester, she was pretty sure both parties had to be conscious to experience one of those visions. Good lord, did she dream she saw her dead mother? And Nick's? And wasn't Nick's aunt there, too? What the hell?

"How's Nick?" she managed to get out, hand rubbing her forehead. She felt Rosalee's warm hand on her other arm and smiled tremulously in response.

"He's still unconscious," Trubel said. "You need to lie down," she added. "I'll get the nurse."

"No, I need to get up." She insisted, but she didn't move for a moment and Trubel hesitated a couple of feet away, and Rosalee didn't say anything.

"Kelly?" Adalind asked suddenly.

"He's with Bud," Rosalee said, "Out in the waiting room," and Adalind nodded. She felt sick again and sighed in frustration that the morning sickness didn't ever seem to abate, though maybe her queasiness was due to whatever had happened to her that caused her to see her dead mother and in-laws. The fact that all three of them would voluntarily be in a room together was nauseating enough to contemplate.

"What about Diana?" she asked after another moment where she tried to take deep breaths through her nose. Her stomach was cramping badly.

"Still with Elizabeth," Rosalee said, and Adalind shook her head.

"I need her here," she said sharply.

"Okay, I'll try to reach her."

"No, Rosalee, I _need_ her here. The medical staff—" she broke off, feeling pain overwhelm her at what she was about to say next. "They suggested it might be time for the family to gather, to say goodbye," she said quietly. She looked at Trubel and Rosalee, Rosalee's face pained, eyes filled with tears, and Trubel who looked betrayed. "You should both probably stick around, too. I don't know how much time he has left."

"Oh, Adalind," Rosalee said brokenly. "I'm sorry."

"So that's it?" Trubel said. "We're just going to give up? We're not even going to try to administer the antidote?" Adalind's eyes flashed angrily.

"We don't have the ingredients we need. We don't have an antidote. What kind of life is Nick going to have if we do? He's bedridden now, they don't even think he'll be able to walk with the damage he has, the heart is so weakened. He won't be a cop anymore. He certainly won't be a Grimm. He'll die an even slower, more painful death than the one he's experiencing now!"

"Adalind," Rosalee tried to calm her, but Adalind brushed her aside.

"Do you think it is easy for me to watch my husband slip away from me? Do you think I _want_ him to die? I want him to live! I want him to be whole and well again! I want him to live up to the promise he made me when he said he would always love me, and take care of me and our family! Instead, I've—oh, god," she cut off abruptly, a stab of pain radiating in her abdomen. She clutched her hands around her middle and took another deep breath to calm herself.

"What's happening? Are you okay?" Rosalee asked her in concern. Adalind nodded, but privately she wasn't so sure. She winced as another pain hit, but it was less intense than the previous one.

"I'm going to go get the doctor. Stay with her," she said sharply to Trubel, as though Trubel was about to abandon her. Trubel nodded and moved closer to the bed.

"Adalind, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you," she apologized and Adalind nodded. She glanced at Trubel.

"I know you didn't," she said quietly. "I know it hurts. It feels like I'm giving up," she said in the ensuing quiet. "I don't know what else to do. Maybe…maybe if we found the ingredients we need for the cure…I don't know. I don't know what good that will do even since it's still likely he'll die within the year."

Trubel stared at her wordlessly, her eyes flooded with her own unshed tears.

"Ahh!" she hissed as another sharp pain hit her.

"Is it—is it the baby, you think?" Trubel asked her worriedly and Adalind shook her head again.

"I don't know," she said, with silent trepidation. _I hope not_.

She didn't want to go through this pregnancy without Nick but she also didn't want to lose this last piece of him she had. Another boy, or even a little girl of their own, maybe, who would represent the last of the line of hexengrimms between them. Or just Grimms, she supposed, since she no longer had her powers anymore. Kelly represented the potential first and last of the hexengrimms they had produced. This new baby had a fifty percent chance of being a hundred percent normal. Nick would never see now what Kelly would grow into, what part of their supernatural world he would fit in. What kind of man he would become. Nick would never even know the name of this new baby, though he would give his to it.

She felt tears slide down the side of her face and despaired she was so tired of crying. So sick of the pain and misery she felt. Wondered if she would ever know anything but this feeling when Nick passed away.

"Hello," the doctor said, as he came into the room, "I understand you're having some sharp abdominal pain," and Adalind attempted a smile and produced a grimace instead.

"Okay, let's take a look. Lie back please." Adalind laid carefully back against the mattress and winced uncomfortably when he placed his hands on her and began to palpitate the area. "Pain on any particular side?" he asked, palpitating first her left, and then right side and Adalind shook her head. "Any nausea accompanying the pain?" Adalind shook her head.

"Vomiting?"

Adalind shook her head again.

"You were sick a few days ago," Rosalee reminded her. "It might be stress, but maybe not."

"Any diarrhea?"

"No," Adalind said.

"Is the pain lower?" he asked moving further down and Adalind winced again when he reached a sensitive spot.

"Are you pregnant, or might you be pregnant?" he asked her, and Adalind bit her lip, and felt another tear leak out and slide down the side of her face. She glanced at the doctor, at Rosalee's worried expression, and at Trubel's, and nodded.

"Yes?" the doctor said, pulling his hands away.

"I'm eight weeks," she said, feeling as though the admission was a stab in her friend's heart.

"Any spotting or bleeding?"

She grimaced. "Some. My doctor said that was normal in the first trimester."

"Cramping?"

She nodded.

"Okay, let me get an ultrasound and we'll take a look, okay?" she nodded again, still biting her lip, eyes locked on Rosalee's who stared back with a wounded expression. The doctor left and Adalind pulled her eyes from Rosalee's and stared at the ceiling, feeling more tears leak out and stain her pillow.

"You're pregnant?" Rosalee said quietly. "Oh my god, Adalind. Did Nick know?" she asked her, stepping forward, and Adalind shook her head, more hot tears sliding out.

"I don't think so. I mean, I never got the chance to tell him while—while he was awake. I told him this last time I sat with him. I don't know that he could hear me."

"Oh, Adalind," Rosalee said. "I didn't know. Why didn't you tell me? I could have brought you some tea, and something to eat..."

"I didn't want to hurt you," Adalind said in a low voice. "And Nick didn't know, and it seemed like I should tell him first."

"I could understand that, but why would it hurt me?" Rosalee asked, and then her face changed when she realized what Adalind was referring to. "Oh," she said quietly. She picked at the blanket covering Adalind.

"Did you think I wouldn't be happy for you?" she asked after a moment.

Adalind shook her head. "It wasn't that. I just didn't want to bring you pain if...if it reminded you of...that."

Rosalee nodded and neither said anything. Trubel looked like she would rather not be trapped in this conversation.

"Monroe and I have decided to take a break for a while," Rosalee ventured.

"What?!" Adalind gasped, turning her head to look at Rosalee. Trubel stared at her in alarm as well.

"Oh, no, not from each other," Rosalee assured, and Adalind breathed a sigh in relief. "Just from trying for a baby. We just need to take a step back and breathe a little."

"I'm sorry," Adalind said, and Rosalee shook her head and shrugged.

"Nothing you can do, and you don't have to feel like you can't share something as momentous as you and Nick having another baby with me."

"Okay," Adalind said with a wan smile, that faded. "I don't know that I can do this, Rosalee. Without Nick."

"I know. I'm hoping you won't. There's still a chance, we can find the other quills. The damage to the muscle might not be as bad as they're saying-"

"Rosalee," Adalind murmured.

"Rosalee might be right," Trubel cut in.

"It's a long shot, I know," Rosalee said. "We're not going to give up on him. If we get the cure, we'll administer it, and then...the rest is up to him, but we'll make sure he has every tool he needs to fight it. He's got a lot to live for," Rosalee said, and the remark reminded her of the dream or hallucination she had had.

"What?" Rosalee asked, seeing her strange expression.

"Nothing, it's just..."

"What? What is it?"

"When you guys found me, on the floor in Nick's room, I—the strangest—I must have been dreaming, Rosalee. I saw my mother-"

"Your, uh, dead mother?"

"Yes, and Nick's—Kelly-and his aunt."

"Nick's dead mother and his dead aunt Marie?"

"Yes."

"Did she have her head?" Trubel asked and Rosalee gave her a look.

"Yes," Adalind said.

"With your dead mother?"

"Yes."

"All in the same room?"

"All in the same room, and all of them—they were all working to save Nick. Together. Your comment. It just reminded me. Kelly said the same thing to me."

"Well, he does."

"Why was your mom there? Wasn't she a hexenbiest? Why would she want to save a Grimm? Didn't Nick's mom kill your mom?" Trubel asked.

"His mother was indirectly responsible for her death," Adalind said. "Really, I was. Kelly was angry about what I did with Juliette and the sleeping curse, and I was angry that my mother had threw me out of the house after what Nick did to me. All she had to go on for anything about breaking the curse was mom, so she confronted my mother. It didn't end well."

"Usually doesn't," Trubel said. "You and Nick are the only Grimm/Hexenbiest couple I know. Only Grimm/Wesen couple I know. That kind of fraternization isn't really encouraged, I don't think."

"They weren't very happy that Nick and I were in a relationship together," Adalind remarked after another long moment.

"Well..." Rosalee said.

"I know. It's to be expected, but...it was just...so weird. And so real, I mean unreal, seeing them all together like that. I don't know why I would dream that, or see that, but it was just like when I could see what Nick was seeing, back when I had cast the entwining twin curse?"

"Do you think it was that?"

"No, I mean, you both have to be conscious to do that. Only one of us is. I don't know what it was."

"Maybe it's your subconscious trying to tell you something," Trubel spoke up.

"That nobody approves of our relationship? I don't need my subconscious to tell me that. I know most people don't approve. Whatever, we knew that going into it."

"Maybe it was trying to tell you something else," Rosalee said.

"Maybe. I dreamt that about the cure," Adalind said and Rosalee and Trubel perked up. "Something about injecting it in his heart, not the paste, or I guess just the paste. And making sure we add three drops of saisei shimasu with it."

"Why saisei shimasu?"

"What's saisei shimasu?" Trubel asked.

"I'm not sure. I've heard of it, but everything that I can remember about it it's very dangerous stuff. Not to be used lightly."

"My mother was adamant I add that."

"Saisei shimasu is likely to kill him."

"That sounds more like my mother. I don't know why she'd try to save Nick. But there's not much likely to save him," Adalind replied morosely.

"Maybe if she knew how much you loved him," Rosalee said.

Adalind snorted. "If she knew how much I loved him she'd disown me. Well, I guess she already did, but me bringing a Grimm home to meet the parents, or parent as it were, wouldn't have went over well. She was so angry with me when he took my powers away that first time. Believe me, she would have not have wanted me as a daughter if she was still alive and knew what I did with Nick. Anyway, I don't know. It was just a dream."

"Maybe," Rosalee agreed. "Or maybe you remember reading or hearing your mom say something about the cure that wasn't in the zaubertrank."

"Maybe."

"We need to find the rest of those quills," Rosalee said.

"I need to get out of this hospital bed," Adalind said. "I can't stay here. Kelly needs me."

"Kelly's fine with Bud and the baby needs you—and Nick needs you—to take care of yourself. Let's just find out what the doctor says about what's going on."

%%%%%%%

Adalind had managed to send Trubel on her way—to catch up with Hank and Wu and the others, and to find out if more quills had been recovered from the scene. Though she had said all the right things, and had hesitated before she left, Adalind could tell Trubel was glad to out of there and actively in the hunt, searching-for the quills, for Sudcliffe, for a miracle for Nick—rather than spending that time at someone's bedside, waiting.

It wasn't for everyone, that was for sure. No amount of promises or pleading could get Rosalee to budge though.

She was there when the doctor told Adalind they couldn't find any evidence of an embryo anymore; that she had lost the baby, that the spotting would become heavier, and that she would could continue to bleed over the next few days, and she was there when Adalind had nodded numbly in understanding.

She still hadn't left when Adalind locked herself in the bathroom armed with her discharge papers and a package of thick menstrual pads and cried herself sick.

%%%%%%%%

"Did you hate the looks?" Adalind asked after a long moment in the waiting room. She had asked Rosalee not to say anything, though she, Trubel and Eve were the only ones who knew Adalind had been pregnant, provided Eve hadn't said anything to the others. Fleetingly Adalind wished she hadn't said anything to Trubel, not that Eve hadn't guessed it and forced her hand. Perhaps then she wouldn't have had to say anything to Rosalee and this could have been something she could have privately mourned.

According to the doctor, she would spend the next few days losing hers and Nick's baby, as her body rid itself of everything it had prepared for it. She felt guilty, that she had not taken good enough care of herself and the baby, and that she had let everyone down with the loss. She had let Nick down, not that he would ever live to know, and she felt more tears burn her eyes and looked at the clock on the wall as she blinked them away.

Rosalee turned to her. They had been sitting side by side in the waiting room in silence, Bud gone—skillfully ushered away by Rosalee before Adalind had to deal with him—with Kelly napping in front of them, spread out on one of the double chairs with a thin baby blanket covering him.

"Am I giving you looks?" Rosalee asked her.

"Yeah," Adalind said, after a moment. "You. Trubel. I know you're worried, and I know you mean well."

"Yeah," Rosalee admitted, after another long moment of silence, heaving a sigh. "I hated the looks."

Adalind nodded.

The looks of sympathy and worry, sadness and concern. She was done with it all already. She could only imagine how Rosalee felt, having gone through it more than once.

"It was bad enough experiencing the looks when we were trying to even conceive, because everyone knew we were trying for a baby—why? Because I had to announce it—and then every time the pregnancy test coming out negative. And then when we did get pregnant and then losing-" Rosalee bit off, and looked down and Adalind turned to her and reached for her hand. Rosalee squeezed it and continued after a moment, emotion clogging her throat. "Yeah, I _hated_ the looks."

"I'm sorry," Adalind said.

"Hated the apologies, too, but I know what you mean," Rosalee said with a pale smile.

The women fell silent again, Adalind watching the rise and fall of Kelly's chest, thumb tucked securely in his mouth and George clutched in the other hand. His dark brown hair needed to be cut, one lock falling over his forehead. George was looking a little rough around the edges too, having fallen victim to one of Diana's supernaturally enhanced tantrums. George probably needed to be retired, but Kelly loved him and Adalind and Nick both had spent many a frantic time trying to locate George's whereabouts in order to calm their son.

She wondered how much, if anything, Kelly would remember of Nick. She recalled Nick saying he didn't remember much about his own dad, who had passed away when Nick was twelve. Bits of memories here and there. Apparently they had both loved baseball, and though Kelly was still a little too young yet for it, Adalind wished they had done more together as a family. They'd never even taken a vacation together. Nick was always so busy with police work, and Grimm work, and Adalind found herself trying to be wonder mom, juggling her own demands at work with her children's there had never been any time for anything else. They had certainly never made any time.

Diana would remember Nick, and Adalind realized that she needed to prepare Diana for the fact Nick likely would die in a matter of days, and felt overwhelmed by the task. She didn't know how Diana would take it, but she figured not well, and felt a flare up of her powers was inevitable. It was fast becoming apparent that Diana was beyond what Adalind, and maybe even Nick, could control, at least in the parameters they had set for themselves. Adalind had hesitantly brought up the subject of a suppressant to Nick, but they were both reluctant yet to move beyond anything but discussing it.

She further realized that the decision might become entirely up to her sooner than she had expected.

"The saisei shimasu," Rosalee said, thankfully interrupting Adalind from her maudlin thoughts.

"What?" Adalind said, turning to her.

"There's regenerative properties associated with it," Rosalee said. "I think that's what I remember hearing about it."

Adalind stared at her. Rosalee turned to look at her.

"I wonder if maybe that's why you thought of it. Nick's heart muscle is damaged, if we inject it in his heart, I mean..." Rosalee trailed off and closed her eyes. "I mean, there's still a good chance we could kill him a lot faster with it, but also...maybe there's the chance it could fix the damaged heart muscle," Rosalee said, opening her eyes.

"Not much hope if it does the first thing before the second," Adalind said.

"I know. I know. I keep thinking about it, though. Maybe your subconscious really was trying to tell you something. Your mom."

"Hell of a delivery," Adalind said. "It only works on some Wesen," Adalind began after a moment of contemplation. "You think it will work on Nick if he's a Grimm?"

"I don't know. Maybe. Maybe it will work with him _because_ he's a Grimm. I don't know. The Grimm thing—stuff never works the same with him as it does with everybody else. Case in point, the stachelig qualle toxin. It's affecting him far worse and more quickly than it normally would." Rosalee rubbed her forehead. "Ugh, Trubel has got to find the others and those quills."

"Do you even have any saisei shimasu at the shop?" Adalind asked her, telling herself firmly not to get her hopes up. She kept thinking Rosalee was right. That the saisei shimasu was more likely to kill Nick faster than it was to fix the heart muscle. Three drops seemed excessive. Usual dosage was one.

"I think so. Maybe. If not, I know where I can get it."

"Maybe we could somehow get the quills ourselves?"

Adalind shook her head. "They're logged into evidence. You have to have a passcode to even get into the room, sign in and out, and then you need keys to get into the cage where they're stored," Adalind said, recollecting a rather enjoyable encounter with Nick there once, when she had decided head down to the station late one night and make his (and hers) night. Rosalee raised her eyebrow in curiosity at the rather knowledgeable response.

"I accompanied Nick down there one night," Adalind explained, turning her face away.

"Didn't hear that story," Rosalee remarked.

"Nothing to tell," Adalind replied, but she kept her eyes averted. "Pretty boring for the most part," she murmured.

"Uh-huh," Rosalee said, and sighed. "We know anybody else down at the station that could help us?"

"That know about Wesen? And Grimms?" Adalind said, "And why it would be so important we get in there, and break police procedure and steal evidence from the evidence locker? No."

"Ugh," Rosalee said. "So in other words one of us can't distract the officer at the desk while the other sneaks past."

"Maybe if one of us was still a Hexenbiest. However, the only hexenbiest we know is Eve," Adalind said, and she was loathing to ask her any favors. However, it was Nick's life on the line, so maybe she shouldn't be so quick to dismiss her.

"She's better utilized finding Sean and figuring out what's going on with him," Rosalee pointed out. That was true. Hank and Wu would be no match for Sean if he used his Wesen nature against them. The dull anger that had been simmering in the background ever since this had befallen Nick, pushed further and further back over the grief with each set back in Nick's prognosis, threatened to boil over. She hadn't much time to reflect on Sean's part in all of this, but he was at the center of it.

"She still has feelings for him," Adalind stated matter of factly. Juliette bled through the Eve persona occasionally, never more so than when Nick was involved. Not that she couldn't blame her, she supposed. He was surprisingly, after years of anger, mistrust, and hate coloring the first few years of their acquaintance, easy to love. A good man, loyal and devoted to the people he loved and called his friends and family. She wondered now if Juliette/Eve had realized how lucky she had been to have had Nick's unwavering support and affection.

There was a lot of pain buried deep, anger and hurt at what Juliette had done to him at the end, and it surprised Adalind after all she had done to Nick that he would feel so betrayed by what Juliette had done. That it was unforgiveable, after he had found it in himself to forgive Adalind and move past it. In some ways everything Juliette had done was no different than the escalating hurt Adalind and Nick heaped on one another. She wasn't sure she viewed it so differently, other than the basic fact that what Juliette had done had come from someone he loved, and that everything Adalind had done had been behavior expected from someone he thought of as an enemy.

Juliette had succeeded, too, where Adalind had mostly failed. She had never actually managed to kill someone he cared about. His aunt Marie, Hank. Juliette, though she hadn't intended to kill her. Having Juliette not remember him had been the real stab she had intended to inflict Nick with. That person that had hated him so, tried to hurt him, seemed so far away from the person she was now. She had had conflicting thoughts on extremely rare occasion after she had permanently and willingly given up her powers, but looking back on the person she had been then, she couldn't help but feel that ultimately it had been the right decision. Rosalee, and even Nick, had voiced the thought that she wasn't that person any more, even with her powers, but she wasn't convinced. Eve, afflicted with the Hexenbiest inside her, could probably attest to how strong the pull of it was, to inflict hurt and pain, to feel power over someone. It wasn't worth it, risking what she had managed to put together with Nick out of the ashes of their former lives. Their family and their happiness. A sense of peace, contentment and belonging for Adalind that had long been absent in her life. Maybe for Nick, too.

She winced, and shifted uncomfortably, still cramping badly as she slowly passed their baby. The doctor had assured it hadn't been due to anything other than a chromosomal abnormality that had resulted in her miscarriage, likely due to the age of the parents. Nick was over thirty-five, apparently the cutoff for those considerations; would be thirty-seven in fact that summer, not that he would probably live to see it. As she had successfully carried and given birth to the two other pregnancies she had experienced the doctor wasn't worried about her ability to become pregnant again, though they would monitor any future pregnancies for those types of abnormalities carefully with Nick's age. She blinked away more tears and felt Rosalee grip her hand again.

"Do you think she still loves him?" Adalind said after a moment, referring to Eve, mostly to fill the silence that weighed heavily on them both.

"You don't have anything to worry about from Nick," Rosalee said. No, she knew that, believed it finally, after a long time of wondering if the opportunity presented itself that he wouldn't want to return to someone he had loved so deeply. The opportunity had presented itself and he had not wavered his focus or affection from Adalind and their son, and even seemed to hold the opinion that theirs was the tighter bond.

"I know," Adalind said, another tear sliding out before she could stop it.

"Yeah, I think she still loves him," Rosalee said after a long moment. "To be fair, it's hard not to."

Adalind nodded again. "That's true."

He was so different from the types of men she had been involved with before. There was nothing and yet everything special about him. He was as unassuming as could be. Of course, when the Hexenbiest had still ruled her then, she was mainly attracted to men who wielded a lot of power and control. Nick, as a Grimm, still wielded plenty of power, so maybe she still was attracted to that type of man, or maybe it wasn't entirely the Hexenbiest.

Still, she had found herself drawn to men that possessed a lot of influence. Political power. Affluence. Men that had used her. Men she had let herself be used with, equating usefulness, and the attention they bestowed on her because of it, with affection.

Men like Sean.

Sean, who didn't care who he used as long as it gave him what he wanted. And when they ceased to be useful he didn't waste any more time with them. Cast them aside and found someone else. She thought about how manipulative and convincing he could be, and wondered again at Nick agreeing to Sean's demands, that he had signed his life over to Sean for Diana. For Adalind.

"I hope she kills him," Adalind said quietly, and Rosalee looked at her with a frown, but Adalind didn't feel the need to defend her statement.

If Eve killed Sean, then Adalind wouldn't have to waste another moment of her life on him.

%%%%%%


	9. Chapter 9

AN: Everybody still with me?

%%%%%

"So Nick's known about this the whole time?" Monroe said, breaking the silence. They were in Hank's police cruiser, Hank at the wheel with Wu beside him, while Monroe and…Eve…occupied the back. It was still weird (not to mention disconcerting) to have her seated in the car with them.

Eve pulled her attention from her study of the back of Hank's skull and looked at Monroe.

"Yes," Eve said, evidently thinking Monroe was referring to knowing about Sudcliffe. Newton. Whoever, and the captain, which, well, yes, Monroe was, he supposed, but he was more specifically referring to Nick knowing about the c _aptain_ and Newton/Sudcliffe.

Hank's jaw clenched and Wu looked over at him. Nick had mentioned that he thought Sudcliffe and the captain might have ties, but it was never clear even whether the captain had known Newton was Sudcliffe. Hank had spent an afternoon spying on Renard as he went about his day, but nothing had become of it and Nick had been forced to let it drop. He had never said anything about why the captain had capitulated in their battle over Diana, never offered any theories or reasons why the change of heart, but like Adalind, Hank was starting to look at it as suspect. He would have no obvious reason to keep the truth of what might have been promised from Hank, or Wu, or Monroe.

Yet he had, and the reason being that Sean might have Nick by the short and curlies was fast becoming more apparent.

"You really think he agreed to whatever this is because it would give them custody of Diana?" Wu asked them.

Hank shook his head.

"I'm sure it's part of it. Maybe he thought he could kill two birds with one stone. Give Adalind Diana, and be clued in to whatever the captain might be doing."

"He's always been a little conflicted over taking Diana away from her mother. It only got worse after they had Kelly and he saw how great she was with him. If you really think about it, everything that happened—losing his Grimm and getting it back—You…becoming you…," Monroe said looking uncomfortably at Eve. "It was because he helped take Diana away."

"He feels guilty," Hank said flatly.

"Yeah, and he knows how much Adalind loves Kelly, how much therefore she loves her daughter, and you know how much he loves Adalind, ergo, it's really not that surprising that he would make that agreement."

"Didn't they basically get sole custody anyway?" Wu asked.

"I think so," Hank said.

"They have primary physical and legal custody because Sean stopped contesting it," Monroe said. "I think Sean only has very limited visitation with her, and he has pretty much no say in his daughter's life and how she's raised now. Really, you can't fault Nick for thinking it was the way to go."

"Nick probably thought that was another bonus. The captain would have no control over Diana that way. Given what she is and the fact everybody's vying for her, it's probably wise to limit her contact with someone who may cater to some bad influences," Hank said. "Still doesn't change the fact I want to know what the hell he was thinking when he accepted whatever it was the captain promised him and didn't share it with anybody."

"Why would the captain offer Diana? Doesn't he need her? She has a lot of power. Why would he just give that up?" Wu said.

"Doesn't he need Nick?"

"Maybe he wasn't really giving her up. Maybe he knew he'd be getting Diana back—or taking her back—from Nick when the time came, anyway," Hank said.

"Maybe Nick figured that out?" Monroe said and Hank shrugged.

"I don't know. If he did he never said. He never said anything about anything."

"Maybe that's the key to all this," Wu said thoughtfully. "What would make Nick _not_ clue somebody in to what was going on. Why would he keep quiet on it?"

"Threatening Adalind or his kids," Monroe said definitively. "He wouldn't risk their safety."

"Still, it seems like something would have stood out with that – we would have clued in. If he was that worried about their safety, I don't think he could hide it. Not for six months. He'd go crazy," Hank said.

"If Nick's family were under threat the Wall would know about it," Eve replied confidently.

"You're sure?" Monroe said.

"Yes." Monroe didn't bother to ask how she was so sure. Nick had mentioned once that the Wall was able to track the whereabouts of most anyone, especially people they were interested in. They would definitely be interested in Nick and his family, and who they came into contact with, or who might be trying to come into contact with them.

"When was the last time you spoke to Nick about Sudcliffe?" Hank asked her, looking in the rearview mirror at her and Eve turned her head back to him.

"Sudcliffe's been elusive, popping up on our grid only periodically, and usually after the fact. We've been trying to chase him down, but he always manages to cover his tracks well, and our attempts have not yielded anything. Sean's being careful, too. We've asked Nick to periodically report in any strange behavior, but the last time we saw Nick was two weeks ago when he inquired about a case you guys had."

"Stolen servers?" Eve nodded.

"Wasn't Newton linked to an IT company?"

"Among others."

"How often have you seen Nick in the last six months?"

"Since he got married?" Eve asked and Monroe glanced at her. It was said with practically no inflection, but Monroe thought he heard something in her tone. Surprise? Acerbity? Monroe had to wonder for a moment what Eve's thoughts were on Nick not only falling in love with his once former enemy and the woman who had caused nothing but pain and suffering for him, and Juliette especially, but marrying her and building a surprisingly happy life with her.

"Maybe four times," Eve said. "He's gotten more resistant to coming to the Wall as he's settled into his marriage and family life. He usually shows up when he can no longer avoid it, and he puts it off for as long as he can. He doesn't stay any longer than he has to," Eve added.

"Wonder why," Monroe muttered and Eve turned her laser stare to him. Monroe shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "You have to admit the whole place is creepy," Monroe defended. "The people there are creepy."

"Do you think I'm creepy?" Eve asked.

"Yes. Uh, I mean, maybe just a little," Monroe said quickly and he thought it possible that Eve hid a smile.

"You said you've been stalled in your investigation into Newton?"

"Yes, and according to you and Nick he's been unable to uncover anything further on Renard."

"So nobody has any idea what might be going on."

"Except the captain."

"What do you want to bet whatever he tells us will be exactly what he wants us to think what happened."

"Newton knew Nick," Wu said.

"The Grimm in Portland is not exactly a secret anymore," Monroe said. "Lots of Wesen have heard about Nick."

"Yeah, _heard_ about him, and who knows, maybe they've even seen a picture of him from somewhere. No, I just mean, as soon as he saw Nick, Newton bolted. He didn't wait around for introductions and Nick was gone after him before any of us even realized what had happened. It was like—like they were picking up from where they left off. The way it all went down… Maybe they have met before and we just didn't know it."

"I don't think I like where you're going with this."

" _I_ don't like where I'm going with this."

"What are you talking about?" Monroe asked, frowning. He didn't like where it seemed to be going either.

"I'm just saying, maybe we need to look at the possibility that Nick might not be as unaware of what's going on with the captain as he said he was."

%%%%%%%

"You got eyes on the captain?"

"I see him," Eve confirmed, eyeing Sean closely, from underneath her platinum blonde wig and a hooded wool coat. She pulled her hood more tightly around her face and marched with quick, purposeful strides to her target as he approached his vehicle in the parking garage of the precinct. Wu had already entered the precinct, intent on going through the evidence collected at the crime scene to determine if there were three more quills that had been found. There were a couple other people distantly, one near the stairwell, and another over by the row two, chatting with a councilman.

Renard slowed his walk and came to a stop beside his Tahoe.

"Hank, Monroe," Renard said, eyeing each of them in turn. "What's going on?"

"That's what we'd like to know, captain," Hank said. "Got some questions for you about Nick."

"Nick? How's he's doing?"

"He's still dying," Monroe cut in coldly, "albeit with a little more certainty this time. His heart has suffered permanent damaged." Renard looked disappointed by this and pursed his lips.

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Are you?" Monroe asked him and Renard looked up, an expression of insult on his face.

"Do you think I want an officer under my command fighting for his life in the hospital? Especially one as integral to Portland's safety as Nick?"

"I'm not sure what you want," Monroe spit out, "but we're thinking maybe Nick knew about you and Newton, and maybe that's why he's in the hospital right now."

"What do you mean?" Renard said, frowning.

"We know the man he was chasing, the Wesen that attacked him was James Newton, aka Brighton Sudcliffe," Hank said.

"We also know you've had some dealings with Sudcliffe in the last six months."

"I see," Renard said, looking at each of them again. "So what is this?" he asked, nodding at Monroe.

"It's time for an honest discussion. We'd like for you to answer some questions."

"I don't know what I can answer for you, detective. What happened to Nick is unfortunate."

"Unfortunate?" Monroe interrupted. "What happened to Nick is because of you. You did this to him."

"Excuse me?" Renard returned, a touch of anger creeping into his voice. "I didn't stab him with poison, and I sure as hell didn't tell him to pursue the suspect across three roofs, leaving behind his backup, and leaping right into an ambush."

"No, but that's not to say you didn't know about the ambush or arrange the ambush, Captain."

"I'm not sure I like what you're insinuating, detective," Renard said, staring hard at Hank. "I didn't know about the ambush, and I didn't know the suspect you were after was the same one who assaulted Adalind and Eve. Nick, unfortunately, let his emotions rule his decision to pursue Sudcliffe and now he might pay for it with his life."

Monroe jerked slightly, radiating anger. His eyes burned red and the captain fixed him with another level glare.

"Did you make Nick promise something in exchange for custody of your daughter?" Monroe asked him, undeterred. Renard's face took on an annoyed expression.

"Like what?"

"Silence, help, look the other way? It's an incredible coincidence that after weeks of animosity and digging your heels in that you suddenly agree to basically everything that Adalind was demanding."

"It was hurting Diana. There was no point in upsetting her further, especially after she's endured so much turmoil in her life already."

Monroe scoffed. "Like you give a damn," he said.

Renard fixed his glare on Monroe. "Don't ever make the mistake I don't. Nick and I had been able to have a couple of conversations privately about Diana and we were able to come to an agreement that would be best for her, without continuing a knockout, drag out battle in the courts."

"What conversations?" Monroe said.

"What agreement?" Hank cut in suspiciously.

"I don't know what else to tell you, Hank. What happened to Nick is the risk that every cop takes every time they put on a badge and report for duty. I'm sorry for Adalind, and I'm sorry for Kelly, and Diana. I know how fond of him she was, but there's nothing I can do about Nick's present condition, and whether you want to believe it or not, I had nothing to do with him getting ambushed. I've got every cop in the city looking for your suspect."

"That still doesn't answer what your affiliation with Sudcliffe is," Hank persisted.

"I have no affiliation with Sudcliffe," Renard replied tersely.

"H.W. Has surveillance photos detailing otherwise," Hank replied mildly, folding his hands behind his back. With them, he made a gesture and Monroe glanced down. He cocked his head slightly to the side, catching a familiar scent and focused his attention back on Renard. Renard was starting to look more unsettled at the direction the conversation kept returning to. "Perhaps you'd like to tell us about them," Hank added.

"I'm afraid there's nothing to tell, Hank. I'm not working for or with Sudcliffe," Renard stated firmly.

"Funny, I don't believe you," Hank said, eyes flicking behind the captain briefly.

Sean didn't look up until Eve was almost to him. She woged and hissed low when he made eye contact, and he woged instinctively in response, his face assuming the rotted cheekbone and eye socket and jaw that was his half-Zauberbiest. Hank pulled his gun as Monroe woged beside him. Eve waved her hand and Renard's car door swung open and struck him, knocking him off balance. Another wave and she had ripped a fire extinguisher from one of the parking structure supports. He managed to deflect it, but it hit the pavement with a loud clang and Sean eyed Eve angrily. Eve, for her part, had already moved on to the next phase of her plan, and as she was circling around him, forcing Sean to move in counterbalance to her, she yanked bolts from a sign on the wall and flung them at him.

Renard swung his arm out, intending to make contact with Eve when Monroe jumped into the fray. Hank frowned, adrenaline pumping as he swung his gun around, trying to keep it locked on Renard, but he was forced to abandon his focus, afraid he might risk hurting Renard. Besides, the intention had not been to shoot Renard. Shooting him would only attract unwanted attention, and he glanced around nervously, awareness flooding that they were in the police station parking garage, which was hardly devoid of people or officers at any given time of the day.

"Uh, guys, I think we need to hurry this up," Hank said loudly, but he doubted Monroe heard him. Eve did, as apparently the distraction of Monroe allowed her to get the upper hand she had been desiring, or perhaps, more realistically there had never been any doubt of her obtaining it. Maybe she had decided to toy with the captain a little bit first. Renard gasped, choking, his face turning red, and Monroe backed off, his face returning to normal as he watched Renard curiously. Hank lowered his gun as Eve held out her hand, fingers twitching and Renard spasmed and convulsed, blood leaking out of his nose and the corners of his eyes.

"Don't kill him," Hank barked worriedly.

"Yet," Monroe added.

"We're not going to get any answers out of him dead," Hank muttered and Renard collapsed unconscious, Hank was relieved to note, when Eve abruptly let up.

"You don't know until you try," Eve said.

%%%%%%%

"Holy crap! What did you do to the captain?" Wu exclaimed, looking at Monroe incredulously.

"I didn't do it," Monroe defended. "Unfortunately. Kind of wish I did."

"Is he going to be able to tell us anything?" Wu asked worriedly.

"He'll talk," Eve replied coolly.

"Did you find what Adalind and Rosalee were looking for?" Hank asked him.

"Crime scene techs only recovered two quills."

"So they have three?"

"Three's better than one." Monroe put in.

"How many did they need? Four?"

"Let's hope three's enough."

"It's going to have to be," Hank said. "Make sure you get it to them as soon as possible." Wu nodded, hesitating.

"You need any help with this?" he asked them. Renard was handcuffed and tied to a chair, slumped forward, still unconscious.

"Doesn't look like it," Hank said. "Waiting on Trubel, I think," and Wu nodded again. He shook his head slightly at what they were doing and left.

"You sure about this?" Hank asked Eve when she stepped forward, staring at Renard with a cool, level gaze. "I'd rather not add murder to kidnapping and assault."

Eve shrugged. "That all depends on him."

She snapped her fingers, the sound echoing loudly in the space. They were in an abandoned timber mill, on the far reaches of Portland, dark and dank and filled with secrets. The whole place gave Hank the creeps, frankly, reminding him a little too much of when he had stormed such a place to find Nick wielding a sword, a shield on the ground, looking for all the world like some modern day gladiator. Monroe, as he later would find out, disappearing out the back among the throngs of people trying to evade the police before Hank could catch sight of him. Before Hank knew what was really going on, that other worldly creatures lived among them, inside them. He looked at Monroe, standing away from them both, looking at the captain with a tense and angry expression on his face. Monroe and Nick had endured at lot together, close in ways that the life or death scenarios Hank and Nick were exposed to every day on the force as partners, didn't even come close to.

Grimm and Blutbad, two of the unlikeliest of friends and allies, a theme that ran rampant in Nick's life. The mixing of the once unthinkable. People he trusted and depended on perhaps even more than the Kehrseites he'd known and worked alongside for years. Adalind, Monroe, Rosalee, Bud and others. A secret world that Hank might know about but would never truly understand or experience.

Hank looked back at Eve, tilting her head at Renard and she snapped her fingers again loudly.

"Wake up!" Renard jolted suddenly, as though untethered and Hank tensed, hand on the gun at his side, but he was still handcuffed and secured tightly to the chair, judging by his struggles. He woged and snarled at Eve, whose lips curled slowly in a smile at the futility of it all. Hank glanced out of the corner of his eye at Monroe, who looked only a few seconds away from woging himself.

"I would like to dispute a few of your claims," Eve said, and turned her head slightly. Hank registered a sound to the left and unholstered his gun. "Just in time," Eve said and Trubel blew out a breath and nodded as she stepped from the darkened reaches of the mill and stopped next to Eve. She glanced around, taking in Renard and the other occupants of the room.

"Let's get this party started."

"Seven months ago, you met with Sudcliffe several times. Why? The real reason," Eve demanded.

Renard glared up at Eve for a long moment and then took a deep breath and let it out. He looked at Hank and Monroe, and Trubel and back at Eve.

"Sudcliffe had been trying with increasing degrees to get my attention. I thought I would find out what he wanted before he killed someone I cared about."

"Who do you care about?" Monroe snorted.

"My daughter," Renard said coolly.

"He threatened Diana?" Hank interrupted.

"In a roundabout way," Renard replied.

"Did Nick know?" Hank asked.

"Yes, I told him."

"When?" Hank demanded. Nick had said nothing about a threat on Diana.

"I took care of it, don't worry," Renard said, shaking his head.

"What did he want to meet with you about?"

"Some old family history," Renard said.

"You're going to have to be a little more specific," Eve said as Trubel frowned.

"I'm afraid that's all I can say," Renard returned.

"So be it," Eve said, and slid her hand over his mouth, sewing it shut. Renard looked at her in alarm, eyes looking down as though they could see what she did. "If that's all you can say, you won't be needing your mouth will you?"

Renard struggled wildly for a few minutes, sweat popping out on his brow, mumbling against the seal of his lips.

"I'm sorry? You have more?" Eve apologized and Hank glanced at her warily. She had embraced her Hexenbiest far more wholly and fully than he thought Adalind ever had growing up with it. Of course, the fact Adalind gave her powers up might demonstrate that she wasn't comfortable with it. He recalled her saying how it took over everything and looking at Eve and what she was he could understand the fear. Eve looked at him, as though she was aware of his thoughts and Hank shifted restlessly, wondering how he was the only one uncomfortable with what she was doing. The others, at most, looked fascinated, Trubel bored.

Eve smeared her hand over Renard's mouth, unsealing his lips and Renard sucked a breath through it reflexively.

"Was there something you wanted to add?" Eve asked him, hand hovering. He eyed her warily, still breathing heavily before he replied.

"Sudcliffe's after a book that's been in my family for centuries," Renard said, eyeing Eve carefully.

"What book? This is about a book?" Hank said.

"Must be some book," Monroe added.

"It has the history—the true history—of the Grimms that have helped the royal families, my family."

"The true history?" Trubel echoed.

"Another book exists, doctored by my father, in a very prominent royal family we have political ties to."

"Well, I don't suppose that would go over well if they went to use the book and found out you lied to them," Monroe said.

" _I_ didn't lie to them, but no it wouldn't. Sudcliffe knows the book they have is a fake and he's using that knowledge to manipulate me into helping him regain footholds in the city."

"Uh-huh, something you're categorically against."

"Sudcliffe's dangerous," Renard said, shaking his head.

"You're not?" Monroe countered.

"Nick know about this book?" Hank asked Renard. He nodded.

"Nick knew of it. I told him about it when I asked for his help with Sudcliffe."

"Asked for it, or demanded it?"

"He gave it willingly."

"Did he now?"

"Nick was helping you?" Hank asked disbelievingly, shaking his head. "He never said anything. No way Nick trusted you on this."

"I asked him not to say anything to anyone. Sudcliffe has connections everywhere. What we were talking about involved the utmost secrecy and delicacy. Sudcliffe is not one to be trifled with and the uprising is a lot more paranoid and secretive following the blow the resistance leveled on them. If we're going to take them down it was and is going to involve some careful planning and the need to let Sudcliffe get comfortable. Nick was aware of the risks involved, he's a Grimm for god's sake, he's highly capable of looking out for himself."

"Capable but not infallible," Monroe said.

"Are you?" Hank asked.

"Am I what?"

"Going to take them down?"

"Of course, and I need Nick's help to do that. I didn't want what happened to Nick," Renard said firmly.

"Still doesn't mean you're not responsible for it," Monroe countered.

"He understood the risks if Sudcliffe was allowed to remain unchecked. We knew what we were up against."

"You definitely did, but I'm not sure about Nick."

"Did Nick know that Sudcliffe was a Stachelig Qualle?" Eve asked Renard.

"I don't know if Nick knew what he was," Renard said, "They met a few weeks ago; a chance encounter. Nick recognized Sudcliffe, probably from the photos you showed him? Sudcliffe definitely recognized Nick. I don't know much beyond that and what transpired, other than the fact Sudcliffe correctly assumed Nick was a threat. After that, Nick was on Sudcliffe's radar, it was only a matter of time before something like this happened, I was just hoping that time would favor us a little more than Sudcliffe."

"Well it didn't," Monroe snapped. "Time isn't favoring Nick at all." Renard said nothing.

"Sudcliffe felt threatened by Nick. Did he feel threatened by you?" Eve asked Renard.

"For all intents and purposes, he has me under his thumb, but yes, given he tried to execute members of the royal families who support me, I would say he felt threatened."

"Did he suspect you and Nick were cooperating together?"

"Sudcliffe's a clever enemy. Nick and I were careful, and it wasn't exactly a secret that Nick's and my association was highly strained after everything that's transpired in the last seven or eight months. We kept any contact outside of work to practically nonexistent—limited to Diana's visitation exchanges if we needed to, and always brief."

"Where you could remind him what was at stake if he didn't cooperate?" Monroe snorted.

"You backed Nick into a corner and forced him to choose the lesser of two evils. You or Sudcliffe," Trubel said.

"I can understand, I suppose, why it might be easier to label me as the enemy, but I assure you, I'm not the enemy in this scenario."

"You'll forgive us if we don't take your word," Monroe said.

"But yeah, I'm sure he suspected Nick and I, and maybe even more so after that evening they met."

"Did you give him Nick to allay his suspicion about you?" Eve asked him.

"What?"

"Did you give Sudcliffe Nick?" Eve repeated slowly. "The ambush, it wasn't just luck. They were waiting for him. All Nick had to do was show up."

"I didn't tell Nick to jump three buildings for crying out loud."

"No, but you knew he would pursue Sudcliffe."

"What was the case you and Nick were working?" Eve said, turning suddenly to Hank, who fumbled for a moment, surprised at being so suddenly remembered.

"Stolen IT servers."

"You knew Nick would make the connection, that container case from way back. Sudcliffe's been associated with several technology companies. My guess is you knew Nick was waffling in his commitment to your cause, his commitment to you. That he was looking for an angle to nail you both and this provided you with the opportunity to downplay both threats."

"I told you, I had no idea that Sudcliffe stabbed Nick, and I certainly didn't point Nick in his direction. Nick's emotional and impulsive and this time it got him killed."

Monroe moved, faster than Hank could almost comprehend, woging and grabbing Renard. Trubel was there, but Hank soon realized she wasn't trying to hinder the Blutbad's aggression in any shape or form. Renard woged, too, his bindings snapping with his and Monroe's parahuman strength, and it was a free-for-all melee that ensued before Eve flicked her wrist and Renard shot straight up into the air.

"Enough," she said calmly, holding Renard aloft as Trubel and Monroe and Hank breathed loudly in the silence that suddenly followed. Hank stared up at the captain and could see blood drip down his arm. He glanced at Monroe, mouth red and wet. Monroe had gotten a piece of him. Trubel clutched a knife she had pulled from somewhere and it, too, was bloody.

Eve looked at everyone, expressionless, and dropped Renard to the ground. He landed hard, cracking against the cement and winced. More blood ran out of his wound and Hank watched it ooze, feeling far away from himself.

"Maybe you didn't expect Sudcliffe to show up and do it himself," Eve said in the quiet and Renard's brow furrowed in pain as he clutched his arm. Blood appeared on the collar of his shirt, where apparently Trubel had made contact with her knife. "The Wesen part of himself, that's been well hidden. We didn't even know what he was. Maybe you thought it would be something else that happened to him, or maybe you thought that Nick would handle it like he always had. With any luck maybe they would kill each other and both of the obstacles to your ascension would be eliminated, but at the very least you would rid yourself of one.

"Nick's dying in the hospital," Eve said. "Where's Sudcliffe?"

Renard still lay on the ground, breathing hard. He touched a hand to his neck and stared at the blood he found staining his fingers. She snapped her fingers and blood spurted from the neck wound. He recoiled in pain and pressed a hand against it. He glared hatefully at Eve.

"Where's Sudcliffe," she repeated.

"I don't know," he gurgled, blood staining his lips and teeth.

"You better find out," Eve said ominously.

"What do you think I've been trying to do?" he spat and coughed, Hank watching him bleed at his feet.

"Giving him time to get away?" Trubel said.

"I want Sudcliffe just as much as you guys do. I've got the entire police department looking for him!" Renard said carefully.

"Maybe you gave him a heads up on that," Monroe accused.

"No, Renard's right. Sudcliffe's smart. He's evaded authorities for decades," Eve said.

"That still doesn't mean you don't have a way of reaching him if you need to," Hank replied, eyeing the captain with a slow-burning fury in his eye. "If you set Nick up to die…" he began, shaking his head. "I'll kill you myself."

"You can't kill me," Renard insisted, slowly getting to his knees. Eve twitched slightly and Renard gagged on more blood. He eyed her warily, and she raised an eyebrow at him in response, challenge accepted and Renard took an uneven breath and tried again. "You can't kill me. You need me to find Sudcliffe. We have to be careful… If we move too fast, we'll lose everything that Nick and I worked hard for in the last six months."

"If you don't move any faster, Nick will die, slowly and painfully, because of you," Eve said in a hard, cold, matter of fact tone. "Then you'll die slowly and painfully."


	10. Chapter 10

AN:we're almost to the end. Two more chapters after this. Thanks to those of you still hanging in there with this story.

%%%%

"Rosalee?" she overheard Wu say when Rosalee picked up her cell phone.

"Wu? What's up? Have you found Renard?"

"Uhh, yeah, we found him," And Adalind turned her head to Rosalee, catching her eye.

"Is he dead?" Adalind asked flatly and Rosalee's soft brown eyes burned with emotion.

"I'm not sure," Wu said, and Rosalee's brow furrowed in confusion.

"Hang on, Wu, I'm putting you on speaker." She held her phone out between her and Adalind and waited for Wu to elaborate.

"What do you mean you're not sure?" Rosalee prompted.

"Well, I think he was alive when I left them," Wu began.

"You think?" Adalind snapped.

"You left them? You're not with the others?"

"No," Wu replied.

"Where are you? Where are the others?"

"Not sure. We were all at the precinct, but I doubt they're still there now."

"Were you able to find anything in evidence?" Rosalee asked anxiously, meeting Adalind's eyes again.

"CSU recovered two quills from the scene," Wu confirmed.

"So we have three," Rosalee said, staring at Adalind.

L"I don't think three's going to be enough," Adalind replied slowly, shaking her head, but she stared back at Rosalee, mind considering.

"It's going to have to be. Three is better than one. We can only hope that his Grimm healing bridges the gap between the weaker antidote and recovery. There's still a chance, Adalind," and Adalind nodded, mind whirling, wondering if it was possible, if he could overcome the toxin. Remembered with a cold dose of reality that he likely had organs that were permanently damaged and weakened and wondered what they might be bringing Nick back to. Was it still the right thing? Could he overcome those? Bring him to life again only to suffer through it?

"Where are you?" Rosalee said into the phone bringing Adalind back to the conversation at hand.

"On my way to the hospital now," Wu said.

"Hold on, meet me at the spice shop," Rosalee said, looking at Adalind for silent permission to leave her and Adalind nodded. Rosalee caught sight of Kelly and Adalind waved her hand.

"Go, Kelly can stay with me," she said. "We'll be fine," she added.

"Give me twenty minutes, Wu," Rosalee said, hurriedly grabbing her things.

"Copy that."

"Go," Adalind insisted when Rosalee hesitated. She nodded again.

"It's going to work," Rosalee assured, and Adalind nodded, too, and offered a weak smile.

With a warm hand on her arm Rosalee left and Adalind turned back to her still sleeping son, thoughts in turmoil, hope warring with what was likely her sad reality: that Nick was too far gone now for it to matter.

%%%%%%

She spent a half hour half-heartedly playing with Kelly when he woke up. He was full of questions, where was Deedee? Where was daddy? What was this place? He explored his surroundings as she led him to the cafeteria, moving awkwardly with the unfamiliar thick sanitary napkin between her legs, still hurting and cramping, hyperaware of the baby bleeding out of her. Kelly was always curious, into everything, something that she suspected came from Nick.

She envied that child's innocence, focused only on the here and now, his immediate surroundings, unaware and unable to comprehend that his father was dying in a room upstairs and she looked at her son again and wondered if she should take him to Nick.

A goodbye, that if and when the time came many years down the road, and Kelly asked, she could say he saw his father one last time.

A goodbye and a visit he would probably be too young to remember.

She wondered if it was even wise. He was so young, with no understanding of the seriousness of Nick's condition. It would likely only unsettle or upset him to see his father like that. Maybe, under all the machines and the tubes and the wires, and the pale, pale, sunken skin, he wouldn't even recognize it was his father.

She summoned a smile when he pointed at the red and white first aid symbol, and made a sound of encouragement when he recognized some letters of the alphabet, and when he looked at her in line at the cafeteria to get him something to eat with pale, green eyes, Nick's eyes, she let him heap as many cookies as he could grab onto his plate.

%%%%%

"Kelly."

Nick's eyes locked onto his son as soon as he uttered his name, his son held tightly in his mother's arms as she slowly and awkwardly moved into the room. Kelly looked around nervously, sensing the heavy atmosphere of sickness and near death that pervaded the room even if he didn't understand what it was.

Nick watched his son mutely as his head swiveled to take in the sights around him, taking in the plants on the window sill and the machines and of course the hospital bed in the middle of the room.

"Mama?" he asked tremulously, his dark brown hair shining in the light. Kelly caught sight of Nick, the dead Nick—or nearly dead—lying against the white sheets and his face brightened a moment before he realized something wasn't quite right.

"Daddy?" he said in the same tone, and Nick gasped a breath, emotion stuck in his throat.

"Jesus," he heard his mother say and he pulled his eyes away from his son and looked at her. Marie stood beside her, stunned expression, but his eyes focused on his mother, staring at her namesake, tears sliding down her face.

"He looks like you," she said, panicky, as though it couldn't be possible. "He looks just like you," she said again and covered her nose and mouth with both hands as she watched Adalind and Kelly take a seat on the chair next to his bed. More tears leaked out, and his mother looked as though she might break, something that alarmed some part of him still comprehending the significance of things like that. She sobbed loudly, covering her mouth and silencing herself quickly, eyes locked onto her grandson as though he might disappear if she looked away, before emotion overwhelmed her. She leaned heavily against Marie, who was also not unaffected by the appearance of her great-nephew. Nick watched her for a moment, his brain still too shell-shocked to take it all in.

"This is your son?"

He looked past Adalind to Catherine, who had asked the question standing behind her daughter, eyes also locked on the child in question.

Nick nodded, still unable to find his voice.

"It's okay, Kell-bell," he heard Adalind soothe their son and he turned his attention after a moment back to his wife and child. "It's okay." She rocked him slowly in the chair, hands brushing through his hair, reassuring kisses on his face and head, before laying her head against Kelly's.

"Mama what's wrong with daddy?" he heard Kelly ask in his childlike garble, face bewildered.

"Remember, I told you daddy was very, very sick and he might—he might feel better knowing you and I were here with him. Do you want to sit with me with daddy?" she asked their son, smoothing his hair, voice soft, and Kelly nodded after a moment, clinging to his mother. Kelly was quiet, face pensive and scared, and Nick wished Adalind hadn't brought him up here. He was too young for this. This would only upset him. It was upsetting the adults. He looked back at his mother and aunt, and Catherine, the only one seemingly composed except for the disbelieving stare leveled on her child and grandchild and he recognized the raw emotion in them. A mother looking at her child as a mother with her own child. In her own twisted way, Catherine had loved Adalind, though nothing he had heard about her had ever impressed him with her abilities as a mother. Adalind was a far cry from her mother to her own children and he was thankful for that.

"He's beautiful, Nick," he heard Marie say and Nick nodded. He was. He wasn't one who normally thought of babies and children like that— _most_ babies were cute; he might concede—but his son _was_ beautiful. Had always been beautiful, a perfect concoction of the best parts of Nick and Adalind. Nick's dark hair and pale, green eyes; Adalind's beautiful, wide smile and vivacity. Both parents' wit and tenacity. He still had some chubbiness in his cheeks, still more baby than child at a little over two years old, but Nick was aware of how quickly he was growing.

"Adalind wanted to name him after you," Nick said again and felt his mother's eyes on him again. He met them steadily, pointedly, and more moisture flowed out from them, as his mother tried for a smile, but couldn't.

Yes, Adalind had known what she was doing when she did that. He hadn't even got as far as his enemy had his baby, much less think of names. She had known how much Nick had loved his mother, and she knew what his mother had sacrificed to try to keep her daughter safe. She knew that for them to ever even believe it was remotely possible that they could put aside their pain, anger, and misery with one another and raise a child together, that she needed to show that she could do her part to put aside her anger over Nick's part in helping to take her daughter away, and make _that_ suggestion. It had sealed Nick's connection to his son, the son who Nick had been so uncertain about. Yes, maybe it might have been a calculated, sentimental, move on Adalind's part, but it was the right one.

Kelly.

Just like that, he was his, and all that mattered.

His arm burned with heat where his mother touched him, hand gripping his forearm unsteadily as she moved to stand next to him. He heard Marie flank her on the other side. He thought of the baby Adalind was carrying now and knew without a doubt how beautiful it would be, too.

"He looks just like you, Nick, when you were that little," Marie said and his mother nodded.

"It's…uncanny," his mother managed, trying to regain some of her emotional footing, but she was still too focused on her grandchild. "You were a beautiful baby, too," she said with another, smaller, smile.

"No I wasn't," Nick replied. "I've seen the pictures," what few still remained, and his mother scoffed a watery laugh.

"You were adorable, you had these chubby, chubby cheeks and this thick head of dark hair, and the longest lashes I'd ever seen on a baby."

"My head was at least three times the size of my body," Nick countered. "It was unnatural."

"It was fine," his mother insisted. "Perfect. Although, I was in labor with you for seventeen hours."

"You were probably stuck on my head."

His mother swatted him weakly and smiled.

"Was Adalind in labor long?" she asked after a moment, glancing at Catherine.

Nick shook his head. "She had complications with Kelly. His heart rate dropped and they had to stop labor and take her to the OR to do an emergency C-section." Catherine looked up at Nick, face striving for expressionless, but like his mother, it was eluding her. "His arm was above his head, blocking him from coming out," Nick explained.

Catherine watched her daughter cuddle their son. "I don't know about Diana," he added. "I don't know much about it except what Adalind told me. We weren't together then. I know it was hard and sudden," he said, "but everything went okay." _Thankfully,_ he added. Stuck out in the middle of the woods with the Verrat after them. He was grateful that Kelly had been able to be born in civilization, in a hospital, where he had had the proper resources and medical care to attend to him when he had needed them.

"You were with her?" Catherine said, indicating his son.

Nick nodded. Not exactly by choice. He had been running on autopilot ever since he got Bud's phone call (perhaps, he could concede, since Juliette had "died" in his arms), blindly following whatever direction Rosalee gave him, unsure what to do, where to be, or if he should even be there at all. "She hadn't been pushing very long when the heart rate dropped. They wouldn't let me go in with her when they took her to the OR."

He was quiet for a moment remembering the fear that had seized him that he might lose the son he had previously been so ambiguous about before he ever had a chance to lay eyes on him. It had snapped into place, suddenly, his feelings for the soon-to-be-born child Adalind was carrying, the whole parenting situation with Adalind as muddled as ever, but his baby, it had been clear what was at stake, and what he was willing and unwilling to part with.

"Not too long ago," Adalind began quietly to Kelly, "you were born here. I started having contractions one morning at your uncle Bud's while he was making breakfast."

"Uncle Bud?" Catherine repeated, and looked at Nick and his family. "Your relation?" She asked them with a frown.

"Bud. Eisbiber. Good friend of mine," Nick said, not meeting their eyes.

"Of course he is," his mother sighed and Nick rolled his eyes with a sigh of his own.

"What was my daughter doing with an Eisbiber?" Catherine asked him.

"Hiding out," Nick replied shortly.

"With an Eisbiber?" Catherine repeated incredulously. "From what?"

"People trying to kill her. She was safe."

"Who was trying to kill her?"

"Juliette, for one."

"I take it she wasn't happy about not being the one to give you a son."

"She was unhappy about a lot of things," Nick said, focusing on his wife.

"So Uncle Bud rushed me to the hospital and called daddy, and daddy got there just as we were starting. He looked a little lost," Adalind said wryly, mouth against Kelly's hair. She affected a growly voice. "The big, bad Grimm looked pretty nervous to be there but mommy was glad to see him anyway," she said with a brief smile, Kelly, too, sharing in her amusement over Nick's discomposure. She was quiet for a moment, staring at Comatose Nick, Kelly abnormally subdued as he listened to his mother's voice calming him. Nick remembered how Adalind had grabbed onto him when he had joined her in the delivery room, terrified fingers digging into his arm, his hand, as the contraction hit, surprise in her voice at his arrival that he would be there.

"Anyway, you didn't want to come out. You were stuck, not unlike your truck you somehow wedged into the toilet," she added, and Nick snorted. "So they wheeled me away from daddy to another room and not too long after that you were born, just a couple of floors up. So good things happen here," and she sobered as she looked again at Nick.

Bad things happened, too.

%%%%%

Adalind and Kelly sat with Nick for about twenty minutes, shifting awkwardly in the chair as though she was uncomfortable. She held Kelly tightly, but she seemed pale and bloodless and distracted, though she tried to keep Kelly calm. Kelly was unsettled enough by the sight of his father, and Adalind wondered out loud if he really understood it was Nick under all the tubes and wires. A couple of times he tried to talk to Nick and Adalind had to gently remind him Nick was sleeping deeply, so sick was he that he couldn't hear his son ask to play or respond to his questions.

The (as yet) undead Nick that no one but his three undeniably dead companions could see was deeply unsettled. He had instinctively started to respond to a couple of his son's questions with answers he obviously couldn't hear and when Nick's mother reminded him of that he had become even more agitated, and started to feel anger at his wife and what he interpreted as some farewell tour.

"I don't want him to see me like this," he said slowly, because, if this was his farewell, he didn't want his son's last memories of his father to be that of him surrounded by machines in a hospital bed, a pale imitation of his former self. Let Kelly remember he and Nick exploring the station, or Nick playing with him in the yard, or reading him a bedtime story, though he was struck by how infrequent an occurrence that had been in the last few months, how busy with work and the Wall and Renard he had become. When was the last time he had truly played or spent time with his children more than just a distracted five or ten minutes?

"He shouldn't even be in here, he's too young. He doesn't understand this. This is just scaring him," he said and he felt Marie's compassionate eyes on him, which only served to stoke his anger more. "I don't want him to see me like this, Adalind," he said more forcefully, again as though she could hear him and he felt his anger ratchet up even further at his helplessness.

"He'll be okay," Catherine said. "He's so young, chances are he won't even remember this, much less you."

He opened his mouth to rebut, his mother looking like she had something she'd like to say, too, like how maybe how unhelpful a reminder that was, when Marie interrupted them all.

"Who's that?"

Nick looked behind him and spied Rosalee standing in the doorway, looking furtively around, Wu lingering out in the hall behind her. Adalind looked up and gasped, spotting her good friend and Kelly looked alarmed at her response before spotting Rosalee standing beyond.

"Auntie Rosalee!" he said, sliding off Adalind's lap, Nick—the dead one (or nearly), of course, Nick didn't know why he felt like he had to keep pointing that out in his mind—forgotten.

"Did you-?" Adalind asked and Rosalee nodded, patting a satchel slung over her chest. Adalind rose shakily to her feet, taking quick shallow breaths as she glanced at Nick lying in the hospital bed, and Nick followed her gaze to his body. She reached a trembling hand to his, fingers lightly brushing his arm and Nick thought he detected a burning sensation where her fingers slid across the skin.

"Hello!" Rosalee greeted Kelly brightly. "I brought a friend with me," she said to Kelly and Kelly looked around her to spot Wu.

"Wu-wu!" he shouted, mimicking a train whistle, and Rosalee and Adalind hastily tried to quiet him. Why, Nick wasn't sure, wasn't like the him that was comatose was bothered about the noise.

"Cadet Kelly," Wu greeted, looking at Rosalee and Adalind and something unspoken passed between them all, among them an inquiry as to how Nick was doing and the subtle shake of Adalind's head indicating no change. "Cadet Kelly, would you like to go down to the cafeteria and play a game with me?"

"Who is this?" Marie asked again.

"Rosalee, Monroe's wife, and Sergeant Wu. He works with Hank and I down at the station," he said, eyes focused on what wasn't being said as Wu attempted to coerce Kelly to do as he asked and Kelly haggled for more sweets. Most of the silent dialogue was passing between Adalind and Rosalee.

"The Fuchsbau?" Marie said, and his mother nodded.

"Kelly, if you go with Sergeant Wu, he will get you another cookie if you're a good boy and does what he says," Adalind cut in, and with sweets promised (but conveniently fuzzy on the details as to his end of the bargain), that decided it for Kelly, who was anxious to leave and collect while the promise was still fresh in everyone's mind, not that he would let anyone forget.

Adalind and Rosalee watched Wu and Kelly go, as did everyone else, and then turned back to each other.

"How are you?" Rosalee asked, concerned, and Adalind shook her head dismissively.

"I'm alright. Were you able to make the antidote with just the three quills?" and Nick's attention sharpened.

"Yeah, I think it will work."

"Three quills?" his mother echoed. "I'm not sure that's going to be enough," she said worriedly, looking at Marie, who looked at Catherine. Catherine frowned.

"Did you mix the saisei shimasu in with it?" Adalind asked as Rosalee reached into her satchel and pulled out an ancient looking hypodermic needle with a rather large, and long, head.

"Yeah, three drops, just like you said your mother told you," Rosalee confirmed, and Adalind nodded distractedly. Nick eyed the needle warily as Catherine came slowly to life, Marie and his mother still conferring quietly about Nick's odds.

He tried to tune them out, focus on his wife, and when that didn't abate the nervousness he felt he looked at his mother-in-law.

"Three quills," she murmured.

"Is that enough?" he asked, and she shook her head pensively.

"Antidote calls for four. Stachelig Qualle stab you with four. I'm not sure what to expect with three."

"We need to hurry," Adalind said, taking the needle from Rosalee. "The nurse is due to come by in a few minutes to check on him," and Rosalee nodded.

"Are you sure you want to?" she asked Adalind, indicating the needle his wife would soon be jabbing into his heart. Nick wished he could stop staring at it. She took a deep breath and nodded, biting her lip, terrified eyes looking at Rosalee.

"What if it doesn't work?" she asked her, pain and fear evident in her voice.

"It will-it has to work, it may just take a little longer since we don't have it at full strength," and Adalind nodded, glancing at the door. Rosalee glanced at it too, and slid the glass sliding door shut, pulling the curtain around to hide them from view.

"That should give us a few minutes," Rosalee told her. "I hope," she muttered. Adalind nodded again, eyes roaming over Nick, hands shakily gripping the needle and moving it over his chest.

"Rosalee?" she whispered. "What if does something worse? What if he lives and he suffers?" she asked. "What if he wishes he was dead? That I let him die?"

"Oh, for God's sake, Adalind," Catherine said in aggravation. "Just hit him with the damn needle."

"He'll definitely die if we don't do anything. Is that what you want?" Rosalee asked her, no judgment, and Adalind bit her lip, a tear sliding down her cheek, as she slowly shook her head. She placed the needle over his heart, sharp tip brushing the skin and Adalind took another deep breath.

"Here goes," she said quietly and plunged the needle into his heart.

%%%%%

"What's happening?" his mother demanded. His eyes were bleeding, they had to be. What was slipping out of them was too thick to be tears. He was on the floor again, body rigid as he was overcome with seizures.

He gasped desperately, and became aware of a cacophony of high pitched electrical trills. He heard what sounded like Adalind crying hysterically, Rosalee shouting. A moment later he recognized Rosalee as she stepped over his body on the floor and then hastily fiddled with the satchel at her hip. A moment later more feet came into view, thick white medical clogs and shoes as personnel filed into his room. He vaguely registered medical stats being called out as he curled on his side, his abdomen on fire, bleeding, the blood hot in his veins, so much so that he became aware he was screaming in agony.

Adalind stumbled by, Rosalee too, as he rolled onto his back, a nurse pushing them out of the room.

More blood leaked out of his eyes and his mother's beautiful face hovered into view, Marie's close by.

"Am I dying," he choked, and this time it wasn't melodrama making him say that.

"Nick, shh," his mother soothed, hand smoothing his hair.

"I'm dying," he said again, weaker, the reality hitting and he screamed again as another seizure hit, pain wracking his body like a bolt of electricity before it abruptly abated, leaving him curling in on himself again, arm clutched over his abdomen.

"Nick? Nicky!" he tried to pull away from them, away from the noise and the pain, and his eyes found Catherine's.

"What did you do to him?" his mother demanded.

"What had to be done," Catherine said, watching him suffer.

"What did you do to him?" Marie demanded, low and cold, resurrecting every bit of the fearsome Grimm she had once been.

"Exactly what you asked me to," she said coolly.

"Nick? Nick, hang on honey, just hang on," his mother encouraged. "I swear to god," his mother began. "If you've done something to my son—"

"You'll what? Kill me again? I'm already dead, sister," Catherine said and Marie stood, Catherine watching with a sneer.

"Oh, god. Oh god. Let me die," he whispered, if this is what living meant. "Please, just make it stop," he begged. Make the pain stop. It was as if his whole body was on fire, the blood rotting. The veins in his neck stood out and he rolled into a ball again, his torso aflame.

"Not a chance, buster," his mother snapped. "You've got two kids remember? And another one on the way, and a wife who loves you very much."

"Please," he said again, pressing his face and nose against the tile, the room filled with noise and voices. "Gahhh!" he screamed, pain closing in tightly, like a vise, and he began to seize again.

"We're losing him," he heard, and he thought, _thank God. It's almost over. It's almost over._

The thought that this would end, that his agony and suffering would soon cease washed over him like a cool wave, and he latched onto the promise it held.

"Nick! Nick!"

"Oh, my god! Oh, my god! Oh my god!" he might have registered Adalind's voice screeching, but then he felt warm liquid slide out of his ears and distantly his brain catalogued he was bleeding from there, too.

"Nick! Marie!" his mother snapped.

"Do something!" Marie commanded, eyeing Catherine hatefully.

"Like what? I'm dead. Like you I can't do anything except watch."

"Nick. Nicky," his mother sobbed.

"Let me die," he pleaded, something throbbing and aching, a swollen mass pressing against his rib cage, threatening to break it, and he choked, spat, and noticed the floor was red now.

"Nick," his mother knelt on the floor beside him, gathering him in his arms, Marie hovering too, hands grasping his as he convulsed, wracked with pain. He thought he heard something break, a bone, a rib, and he gasped as a new wave of misery attacked him.

"Please. Please," he gurgled, more blood filling his mouth and his mother leaned over him, sobbing. "I just want it to end," he choked out, and mercifully, finally, it did.

%%%%%

Time of death was called at 7:54 p.m.

At 8:09, a nurse told Adalind, with Rosalee crying beside her, Adalind emotionless, that for the fifth and final time, her husband had died. As she had signed a DNR no attempt was made to prolong his life and after seizing for almost ten minutes his heart had finally given out, granting Nick's body a reprieve from what little life that had been forced into him since the whole ordeal began.

At 8:22, the same nurse who told her her husband was dead, led her into his room to say her final goodbye. There was no sound now, no machines electrical hum, no hiss of the ventilator, no pulse of the heart monitor, nothing. He had been disconnected and the electronic equipment turned off, no longer needed now and she stood at Nick's bedside, as she had every day since this nightmare began and looked down at her husband's body.

"I killed you," she whispered, aching and sick, knowing that the saisei shimasu concoction she had thrust into his heart had dealt the final and agonizing blow. Three drops—she had known it was too many. It was too many in normal circumstances. His heart was too weak. "I killed you," she said, looking at the man she had once feared and hated when she first met him because the circumstances of who they were demanded it, and then that same man she had grown to love deeply and completely, like no other and collapsed on him. His body was cold, as it had been for days now. She sobbed silently at first until she was overcome with wracking, heaving sobs, clutching him tightly as grief leveled her. She curled on her side, head against his chest, clutching his body desperately as she half hung onto the bed.

"Nick, Nick," she cried, eyes burning. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry." She laid there next to him, crying, until almost ten, when she fell into an exhausted asleep.

She jolted, almost losing her balance on the edge of the bed, before she became aware of where she was at and what had happened.

She jumped again when she felt something brush against her fingers.

Nick's. They moved. Twitched in a spasm really, but she was holding them tight so she had felt it.

Maybe too tight. She released his hand abruptly and pulled back, sitting up, eyes locked on his hand. She stared hard for several long seconds—

There! Definitely a twitch.

Right?

Was she just seeing things now?

She heard a hiss, and her gaze darted to his mouth and then she screamed.

Loud.

%%%%%

At 11:08, he was unofficially pronounced not dead, and rehooked to the ventilator. Doctors, a slew of them including, Adalind thought, the chief of medicine had been in Nick's room.

A pulse, faint and thready, had been detected and the professionals had all declared it a medical miracle that somehow, Nick's heart had restarted beating on its own, nearly three hours after it had first stopped.

She watched their incredible, befuddled faces, Rosalee, clutching her hand once again tightly as she listened to them try to wrap their heads around it, cautiously surprised but not what Adalind would call hopeful. Still, she hoped and prayed to every god she had ever heard of or studied that someone would hear her pleas and bring Nick back to her.

Their concerns over organ damage from the seizures and heart failure had been multiplied ten-fold. He had been without oxygen for nearly three hours, and now they were concerned with brain damage and more seizures, possibly.

She was heartened when they could find evidence of brain activity, as strong as it had been before, but despite his heart starting and him breathing, he remained in a coma.

He went the next seventeen days without a seizure, or his heart stopping, or his condition taking a turn, a record.

On day eighteen, that changed.

At 5:34 in the morning, Nick regained consciousness.

%%%%%

He could hardly stay awake for more than a few minutes at a time, and he was incredibly weak.

Still, the moment when he had looked at her that first time, eyes sharp with recognition, would forever be locked away in her memory. His eyes stayed frozen on her, fighting to stay open as the fatigue that constantly overwhelmed him threatened to sweep him away again.

He was in and out of consciousness for days. He still had the ventilator working his lungs for him, and the dialysis machine working his kidneys. His wounds had finally rid themselves of the tod ranken which had slowly receded until all he was left with was pink mottled skin there, but doctors declared he was finally free from infection as though they had made a major accomplishment.

His heart still showed damage from the toxin and he was at significant risk, the doctors said, for congestive heart failure due to it, and brain damage. Like they had warned her before, he wasn't a good candidate for transplant, so many things afflicted by the poison and its effects, and Adalind despaired her fears were coming true.

He was marginally alive, but possibly slipping away bit by bit, ever so slowly.

%%%%%

"Morning!" she said brightly as she entered his hospital room, affecting the cheerful persona she had determined to display whenever she was with him.

"Morning," he rasped, taking her by surprise, and he smirked slightly at her shocked expression. She came to an abrupt halt.

"They removed the tube!" she said, though, obviously. He was sitting up slightly in bed, where the staff had adjusted his bed accordingly, propped up by a few pillows. He sported a nasal cannula now and a slightly jaundiced face. A cup of ice chips sat on the tray table over his hospital bed, a spoon sticking out of it, but for the first time he appeared to be alert and aware of his surroundings and what was going on around him.

"Yup," he confirmed hoarsely. His lips were chapped and sore looking but still she bent and pressed her mouth against them for the first time in nearly a month.

She was embarrassed to discover tears had slid from her face onto his and pulled abruptly away, sweeping her hand over her face, trying to hide the evidence, but it was a fruitless exercise. Nick tried to grasp her hand, but he was still at, at most, not even half-strength and she was able to pull away easily, searching for the chair set right behind her. She spent a few moments fiddling with it, moving it inches to the left and forward and then back as she stalled for time to regain her composure before she was finally forced to sit in it and face Nick.

She met his eyes, and summoned a smile.

"Sorry," she said. "I just wasn't sure…the doctors said you weren't…you've come a long way since they brought you in," she managed and looked away, haunted by the image of him lying in that hospital bed looking dead and gone and no hope. She reached for the cup on the table.

"Do you need some more ice?" she asked, getting a spoonful ready, but most of the ice fell off, her hands shaking and Nick shook his head slightly, looking like the effort was monumental. She set it back down and took a deep breath.

"I was scared," she said. "I thought…the doctors weren't optimistic…I thought I was going to lose you," she said, glancing up at him. She did lose him. She still might. No one was sure what was happening with Nick, though they were cautiously optimistic about his recovery. She had heard whisperings among the medical staff that the damage didn't appear to be as much or as severe as they previously heralded. Adalind wondered, but didn't dare to hope, that it might be, in fact, reversing or repairing itself, the saisei shimasu, or even his Grimm healing, or a combination of the two working to fix him.

"I'm okay. I'm getting better," he amended, still looking frail and weak, and sounding like he was gasping for breath with every word, but determined.

"Do you remember anything?" Adalind asked him, twisting her wedding ring, "about what happened?"

Nick shook his head again.

"Bits and pieces," he said, and Adalind stared at him, wondering if he was being deliberately evasive, trying to protect her.

"You were stabbed by a stachelig qualle," she said, watching him for recognition but he didn't appear to recognize the name. "They inject a poison that makes the victim's blood in the veins turn black. Causes their heart to stop several times before it usually just finally gives out."

Nick stared at her, fingers twitching as though he wanted to touch her.

"Your heart gave out five times," she said.

"Adalind," he rasped.

"I signed a DNR after the fourth one. I didn't think you were going to make it and it seemed like I was making it worse by having them try to keep you alive. Your lung, your liver—and then your kidneys started failing—"

"Adalind," he said again, but she shook her head.

"They had you hooked up to every machine imaginable and they said you had permanent damage to the heart muscle, and we weren't able to get everything we needed for the antidote. You need four quills and we only had three and I wasn't sure it was going to do anything with everything, and then I used three drops of the saisei shimasu and I knew it was too many—" she broke off, waving a hand at him and started to cry silently.

"Adalind."

"I killed you," she said after a long moment. "I know I did. Rosalee got the antidote ready and I injected you with it and you had a massive seizure and your heart gave out and I had signed the DNR order and—"

"Adalind," he rasped again, more forcefully.

"You died," she got out, covering her face with her hands and letting her hair fall around her. "I killed you," she said again, needing to confess what she did, that she had hurt him, and she jumped when she felt his fingers brush against her. He looked exhausted, as though he was on the verge of collapse from the effort to move to touch her.

"Come here," he said, and she frowned and nearly declined before the urge to be close to him, to touch him and hold him overwhelmed her and she climbed into the bed beside him, trying to be careful of the wires he was still attached to.

"You saved me," he said hoarsely and she shook her head against his chest, her arm sliding around his middle, trying not to aggravate the wounds he had over his abdomen, cause him more pain. One arm brushed against her, his fingers lightly touching her.

"You found the antidote and you administered it in time. You saved me," he insisted, panting and gasping for breath with the exertion of getting that many words out, and she felt more tears slip out and fall against him.

"I lost you," she said.

"Not yet," he replied after a moment. "Not for a while."

%%%%%

"I dreamt of you," he said one day when she joined him at the hospital. He was sitting up again, a regular occurrence now, and the bandages over his wounds had been removed, showing only pale pink scars that had nearly healed. They had taken him off the dialysis machine and his skin no longer possessed a yellowish tint. He still tired easily though, and gasped for breath, pale and wan, his heart struggling to support him at nearly half its capacity.

She glanced up at him, eyebrow quirking in question at the seemingly non sequitur.

"You asked if I remembered anything," he said, breathlessly. "I dreamt of you."

"While you were unconscious?" she asked and he nodded.

"You, and my mom, and my aunt," he said and she took a seat on the bed next to him, leaning a hip against the mattress. He slipped his fingers through hers and held her hand, staring at their joined fingers.

"I think we were in this room," he said, pulling his eyes away and looking around.

"Together? That must have made for one awkward family reunion," she said with a snort, and he nodded.

"I told them about us, about Kelly, and they weren't…exactly as supportive as I thought they would be," he said looking troubled and she snorted again.

"Not really a surprise, given our history and the fact they're the two people who love you the most and raised you," Adalind said and he shook his head. "I'm sure they thought you could do better than the hexenbiest who tried to kill you. And your aunt. Wow, thank god we don't have to deal with that on holidays," she muttered, imagining the looks, the disapproving frowns.

"Your mom was there, too," he said, still looking troubled, and Adalind snatched her hand away.

"What?" she said, sure she hadn't heard him right.

"I dreamt of your mom," he said again, panting slightly. "It's weird, right? Why would I think of her, or dream of her? I only ever met her the one time, but she was there with us, with me," he said, shaking his head.

"What was she doing?" Adalind asked. "In your dream?"

He frowned again, lost in thought, trying to resurrect the memory before slowly shaking his head.

"I'm not sure, she was…I think she was in shock to see you," he said and Adalind scoffed loudly.

"I'm sure. Did she know we were married?" and he nodded after a moment, still unsure of what he had seen and dreamt.

"Well, that explains the shock," Adalind replied. "Although you may not recognize it, but I'm sure horror was the more accurate term. Me married to a Grimm," Adalind said, shaking her head with a wry smile. "If she hadn't already disowned me after you took my powers she would have after she discovered we were in a relationship."

"She didn't seem to be that against it," Nick said slowly. "I mean she was shocked, yes, but…she really didn't say anything about us."

"You don't know my mother," Adalind said. "Trust me, she was thinking it. Our relationship with one another…it wouldn't be welcomed in her home."

Adalind looked down at the blanket covering him, wishing for a brief moment that once in her life she had heard her mother say she was proud of Adalind, of what she had accomplished. She hadn't been impressed with her decision to pursue higher education, the obvious contempt Adalind had felt over her mother's lifestyle, though she had still tried hard to be the daughter her mother had wanted. Adalind had become a successful lawyer, top ten of her graduating class, a good mother to her children, a good person, finally, happy, married to a good man who loved her and treated her well, but her mother hadn't lived to see that, and she had demonstrated nothing but her disappointment in Adalind's life choices. That the good man she married was a Grimm, the enemy, would be the only thing she focused on, and that Adalind loved him would be considered an inexcusable weakness, something she had never tolerated.

"I dreamt you were pregnant," he said, looking at her, and Adalind schooled her features carefully, heart beating loudly against her rib cage. It had been over a month now since she had lost their baby, and she had managed to bury it down, focused on Nick, and his recovery, and taking care of Kelly and Diana and holding it all together. Sometimes when she was alone, at home, it crept back to the forefront, that she would one day have to tell him, but so far she had managed to keep that admission at bay.

"Oh?" she said neutrally.

"Yeah," he said, looking at her hand again, where she was absently picking at a thread in his blanket. "I was shocked it had happened so soon," he said, thinking no doubt of his reaction in the dream. "But I was happy," he said, looking up at her and she willed tears not to flood her eyes. She nodded instead, trying to find her voice.

"That's…good to know," she said. "Maybe one day," she added, "like we had talked about, when Kelly starts kindergarten maybe," she added, the pain of the miscarriage raw. "You still have a lot of recovery ahead of you," she continued, thinking of her conversation with his doctor, how they weren't sure whether he would ever regain a full recovery, that his heart might always be permanently weakened, though not to the extent they had previously thought. There was still a question as to whether he would be able to return to police work, particularly in the same capacity as before. He might be permanently benched, so to speak, resigned to a desk job, though after everything that Sean had put him through, Adalind half hoped he would resign period.

Half hoped because she knew he wouldn't. It was Nick, and he wasn't a quitter. Still, if he refused to give up police work, she hoped maybe she could convince him to transfer out of the central precinct, and away from Sean. They lived in the northwest district; perhaps he could find a job closer to home. There was less violent crime, too, less opportunity for him to get mixed up in the types of cases he usually was involved in.

Nick stared at her, trying to read her face, perhaps detecting something wasn't quite right.

"What is it?" he asked, and she shook her head. It wasn't the time to talk about the baby. She knew she wouldn't be able to get through it, to tell him, without breaking down again and she had only reasserted some sort of grip on herself, after the rollercoaster of emotions and exhaustion of the last six weeks. She had sworn Rosalee to secrecy, that Nick getting better, getting stronger was the only thing they needed to be focusing on. There was nothing he could do about the baby anyway, and the knowledge she had miscarried would only upset him, depress him, and, Adalind feared, disappoint him.

"Doctor said you might be able to go home in a couple of weeks," she told him, and he frowned, still wondering why that might upset her. "Bed rest," she added, "but you would be at home with us."

He stared at her, eyes searching. She summoned another smile from somewhere. "The kids will be so excited," she said and those beautiful green eyes pierced her heart. "They've missed you terribly. So have I," she admitted. "We didn't know quite what to do if we had to imagine our lives without you."

"I'm still here," he reminded. "I'm not going anywhere."

She nodded and smiled again. "We just need to focus on you getting better," she said and he searched her face, still unconvinced she was telling him everything.

%%%%%


	11. Chapter 11

AN: Wanted to say thank you to everyone who's taken time to review; tried to respond back when I could but I know I didn't get everybody, but thank you, thank you thank you. Your feedback means a lot. And special shout-out to Bia and Alexis: I'm slowly learning Portuguese! I appreciate everyone all dropping me a line to let me know when you're enjoying (or not).

%%%%

Two months, almost to the day, after he was brought in, he went home. He could hardly walk, so out of breath from just standing, but he insisted on going from the car to the house under his own power, and so Adalind, and Hank and Monroe hovering on the other side of him, gripped his arm tightly as he shuffled slowly along the sidewalk from the driveway to the front door, pausing periodically to catch his breath before moving forward. He paused again, breathing heavily at the front stoop, two shallow steps to ascend, and Adalind looked up at him worriedly.

"Nick?" Monroe asked, and Hank leaned forward as Nick shook his head.

"Just need a sec," he breathed. "I'm okay," he assured.

"Okay," Monroe replied, unconvinced, and Adalind met Nick's gaze. He flashed a reassuring smile.

"I'm okay," he said again, and took a step forward and up. He paused immediately, breathing hard, before taking the next step, perhaps sensing Adalind and Hank were about to say something again. "See?" he said, panting, which didn't really help his case any. The door opened and Rosalee stood holding it, where she had been watching him approach through the side lights. She looked at Nick with warm brown eyes and he summoned another brave smile.

"Rosalee," he said and shuffled forward again. Trubel stood behind her in the foyer, eyes locked on Nick and his halting progress.

"Trubel," he said with some surprise, and had to stop just inside the house, breathing hard, and Adalind looked around Nick to Hank. Hank grimaced, watching Nick carefully, looking like he was ready to grab hold of Nick and carry him the rest of the way.

"Nick," Trubel said brokenly, and swept him in a hug. He leaned against her heavily, Adalind noticed, unable to hide the fact he could hardly stand on his own. Rosalee wrapped her arms around him too, and Monroe joined in as well.

"Miss me," he asked, trying to smirk, put everyone at ease.

"You have no idea," Trubel said. "We thought you—" she cut off abruptly, unable to finish, to say it out loud. _We thought you were dead. That we lost you._

"Yes, the rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated," he rasped, pulling back, and everyone released him but Trubel, who still had a firm hold on him.

"Not really," Monroe countered. "You died five times. The rumors of your death, if anything, were a bit underwhelming at capturing all the drama."

"Monroe!" Rosalee snapped.

"Five times? It feels like it," Nick muttered, reaching an arm out for Adalind to slide under and help support him. She quickly stepped forward and under his shoulder and Hank resumed point on his other side.

"You sort of looked like it too," Trubel said and Adalind flashed an annoyed look at her. "But you look much better now," she added hastily.

"Yeah, like you died only three times," Monroe said sarcastically and Rosalee flashed him a look of her own.

"Thanks. I need to sit down," Nick said after another moment where he tried to catch his breath, and everyone stepped back and cleared a path.

"The study?" Hank asked Adalind, where she had fixed a bed for Nick on the hide-a-bed sofa in there. It was on the main level of the house, and given how difficult it had been for him to master the two steps into the entryway it now seemed incredibly prudent that she had done so.

Nick shook his head, and Adalind frowned but acquiesced. "The family room," she said, and together they helped Nick navigate the remaining steps through the house and deposited him gently on the sofa. He breathed noisily, gasping for breath, though trying to look as if he wasn't.

"Didn't realize the trip was going to be so long," he said, trying to dismiss their concern. "I'm all right." He looked around the room, avoiding their worried faces. "Where are Kelly and Diana?"

"Daycare," Adalind said, taking a seat next to him, hand smoothing along his brow, noting it was sweaty. Nick tried to shrug away from her, but he was too tired and weak to be effective.

"We thought it might be best for you to get settled in at home first before having them see you."

"Two excited little kids, it might be too much," Monroe said, and Nick frowned, looking around again.

"They'll be done soon," Rosalee added, noting Nick's look of disappointment.

"I want to see them," he said, as though he hadn't endured a handful of admittedly brief visits with his children at the hospital.

"I can go get them," Rosalee offered, looking at Adalind and Adalind shook her head slightly.

"They want to see you, too," she said, "but I think maybe you should take a little bit and rest up before you do." Nick's lips twisted like a petulant child's.

"All I've done is rest," he said irritably, still wheezing.

"That's all you're going to do, too," Adalind replied warningly, and Nick met her eyes, bright with challenge. "Doctor's orders," she reminded him, and he scowled, looking a shade like his former self.

"I'm fine," he replied. "I'm getting stronger every day," he insisted, and while that was true, he also tired easily and frequently, and he had been told of the likelihood he had a permanently weakened heart and that that would be his new normal for the rest of his days to come. "Now that I'm home, I should start getting back to normal even faster."

"I don't think we should rush it," Rosalee said and everyone shook their heads. "Adalind's right. You just need to rest and continue your recovery slowly," and everyone murmured their agreement. Nick looked at the assembled faces and sighed, some of the fight going out of him.

"Where are we at on our case?" Nick asked Hank suddenly, and Adalind drew back.

"On _my_ case?" Hank retorted. "Not your concern. Your only concern is to do exactly as Adalind and the doctor instructed."

"Have we got any other leads?" Nick persisted.

"We, as in Wu and I, and _not_ you? I told you before we've got it covered, no worries."

"I think Sudcliffe—"

"Nick!" Rosalee snapped, and Nick flicked his eyes to her in surprise. She was looking at Adalind, noticing the fear and anger radiating from her and her eyes lingered on her friend for a moment longer before they looked at Nick.

"It's not your concern," she said. "You need to focus on getting better and taking care of yourself, and trust that everyone else will take care of everything else," and Nick's eyes flicked to his wife, sitting rigid beside him before he nodded reluctantly.

"Wu and I, we've got this."

"And Rosalee and I, too," Monroe added.

"And Eve's helping us track down some leads. We've got it covered."

"Eve?" Nick rasped in surprise, looking at Trubel.

"We've got it covered, Nick."

"Sudcliffe's still in the wind," Nick said, gasping for breath. "He could get to my family. He could get to Adalind or Diana or Kelly."

"He's not going to hurt anybody," Monroe said confidently. "He's got to go through a long line of people to make that happen, and I doubt at this point he's going to risk it." Nick's brow wrinkled at his statement.

"Yeah, I'm going to stay with you for a while and make sure nothing happens to Adalind and the kids," Trubel said to Nick, "while you recover. Finally take you up on your offer for the guest room."

"Thanks," Nick said after a moment, clearly overwhelmed by emotion. He looked again at Adalind, still fussing with things around him before she abruptly stood.

"I think that's enough excitement for one afternoon. Let's get him settled in the study," she said, and Hank and Monroe each took an elbow and helped Nick to his feet. He tried to shrug them off, convince them he didn't need help or that he wasn't tired, but the truth was he was exhausted and he could hardly stand. The forty feet it took to cross the house and settle him in the study drained the last bit of energy out of him and he collapsed into the bed almost in relief. The others bid their goodbyes and slipped out of the room leaving Adalind and Rosalee and Monroe behind, lingering as they helped him settle in, before only Adalind was left. She fluffed his pillow and pulled the blanket up to his chest, like he was a child, and he felt a flash of irritation until he looked at her face. She looked pale and tired.

"I'm going to be okay," he told her, and she flashed a wan smile, unconvinced, and nodded.

"You need to get some rest. The kids will be home in a couple of hours," she told him, flicking off the lamp beside him. "If you need anything," she indicated the baby monitor beside, the one they had used for Kelly. She held up the other end, and clipped it to her waistband. She placed a kiss against his cheek and stood.

"Adalind," he said, not wanting her to leave and she paused at the doorway, myriad emotions flickering across her face before she summoned a plastic smile.

"Rest."

%%%%%

She found him leaning heavily against the counter one morning, having risen from bed and made the trek to the kitchen on his own. Trubel was sitting on one of the barstools, drinking a cup of coffee and eating a donut and Nick was eyeing both like a man looking at his last meal.

The thought reminded Adalind too much of his recent brushes with death, and she frowned irritably at them both.

Why she thought he would listen and follow doctor's orders, she didn't know, but he seemed dead set on pushing every boundary he encountered.

"What are you doing? How long have you been up?" she asked him, and he shrugged, still breathing hard. "Why didn't you call for me?" she asked him.

"You were sleeping," he said, and finally decided to settle into one of the chairs at the counter, or perhaps he realized he couldn't stand and argue with Adalind at the same time without appearing weak.

"Don't even think about it," Adalind said flatly, noticing his focus on Trubel's breakfast.. "Doctor said no caffeine. You're on a strict diet."

"I feel better," he insisted, his go to response when he felt their confidence waning in his progress.

"Forget it," Adalind replied, and Nick frowned and turned to face her. She was exhausted, the toll of taking care of Nick, and Kelly and Diana, wearing her down. She hadn't had a moment's rest in almost two and a half months. She went to bed worried and tired, and tossed and turned all night, and subsequently woke up worried and tired. She was afraid her insomnia would disturb Nick, so she slept upstairs, with the excuse she still needed to be close to the children in case they needed her. Plus, sleeping upstairs, away from him, helped her avoid any unpleasant topics that might surface. Yet she worried he would slip away in the night, like he had at the hospital those few times, and she had taken to pacing around the house in the middle of the night, lingering outside the study, listening for the reassuring sound of his breath. She left the baby monitor on all the time, listening to his uneven inhalations and exhalations as she lay curled on her side, facing the nightstand.

Berman was threatening to fire her if she didn't come back to work, a mostly empty threat given how much he needed her, but she was aware she had a pile of work mounting and too many expectations weighing on her. She had snapped at Nick again last night, in mounting frustration, tired of dealing with his increasing belligerence as he continued to push his recovery at home.

"I need to go into work," she said to Trubel, ignoring Nick, because she felt like laying into him again. "Can you keep an eye on him for a little while?" and Trubel swallowed a chunk of donut and nodded, registering Nick's annoyed huff beside her.

"I'm more than capable of taking care of myself," he said angrily.

"That's debatable," Adalind retorted, and Trubel flicked her eyes uneasily between them. Adalind turned and left the kitchen before she said anything else, just as Nick was summoning a breath and a retort of his own, and he watched her leave with a perturbed expression on his face, physically unable to pursue the argument in any way.

"You should go easy on her," Trubel said to him. "She's worried about you."

"I'm fine," Nick replied. "If she would stop worrying for a moment she could see that."

Trubel snorted. "She loves you too much to stop worrying. She's scared something will happen to you."

"According to you all, I don't have anything to worry about with Sudcliffe," Nick said in a dry tone. "You've all been surprisingly reticent as to why."

"Not that," Trubel said, ignoring his remark. "You know that the doctors told her that you had permanent heart damage? They basically told her that if you came to that you would probably suffer in pain for months before your heart would give out and you would eventually die. You're still suffering from lingering effects from the poison and your heart is still weak. She's terrified that's what's going to happen."

Nick sobered, feeling his ire fade. No, he hadn't seen her, but he remembered bits and pieces of his dream, recalled the fear and resignation in her face, and he could imagine his own fear, if he had been dealing with the same situation with Adalind, and felt shame wash over him. Of course she was worried. She had lost her husband. Had been told his heart had stopped five times; it wasn't something she could just brush off or brush aside as though it had never happened, but it was also the feeling that something was wedging between them that he couldn't put his finger on. There was a distance between them now, and Nick wasn't sure if it was fear over his health or something else that was causing it, but it seemed like Adalind was actively avoiding being alone with him for any length of time.

"I am getting better. Really," he said again. "I know it doesn't seem like it, but I think—I think whatever it is the cure or the Grimm thing—I think I will get back to normal. Every day, it feels like the vise on my heart is letting up a little bit, and I can do a little more. It's just taking a hell of a lot longer than I'd prefer. I can't stand just sitting around, doing nothing."

"I know, but that's exactly what you're supposed to be doing. You'd make everybody feel better if you'd just take it easy."

Nick sighed disgustedly. Trubel heard Adalind descend the stairs and leave, another flash of irritation in her look as she bid them goodbye, perfunctory kiss on Nick's head, as though he was one of their children. Maybe that's what irritated him. The fact she dealt with him like he was their third child or something. Nick looked in the direction of the garage as they heard the engine of her car start. He slid off the barstool a moment later as she drove away and searched the kitchen for something to eat, once again eyeing the donuts and coffee.

"Uh-uh," Trubel said firmly, snatching them away. "You might be getting better, but no way am I risking you dying on my watch."

"A donut's not going to kill me," he said.

"Uh-huh. Let's see what the doctor said you could have," Trubel announced, referring to a sheet of paper with his medical instructions for recovery attached to the refrigerator with Kelly's alphabet magnets. Above it, Diana had spelled out _Diana loves Daddy_ and _Get well soon_ and Kelly, with the aid of his sister or mother had spelled out _Kelly_ and _Mommy_ in them. Below Kelly's name was the phrase _is a Bauerschwein,_ undoubtedly another contribution to the fridge from Diana. Below that still were a couple of pictures Kelly and Diana had drawn for him to aid in his recovery. The house was filled with cards and flowers and plants wishing Nick well and a speedy recovery. Nick heaved another annoyed sigh.

"You all treat me like a child," he snapped.

"You're acting like one," Trubel returned, unperturbed.

He felt like batting her now empty coffee mug off the counter in frustration, but he retained just enough grip on his temper to realize he'd only be proving her right with such an act.

"You matter to us, so sue us that we all care. Sorry you're so well loved," she added sarcastically, turning away from him, and Nick sighed again.

"I'm sorry," he said after a moment. "I know I'm acting like an ungrateful ass, sometimes."

"Sometimes?"

He flashed a look of irritation at Trubel's ill-timed joke.

"It's okay, but I think you need to apologize to your wife, more than me," Trubel said. "She was really worried about you. I don't think I've ever seen her so scared and emotional," Trubel told him. "I mean, I'm sure some of it was hormones, but she was a wreck."

"Hormones?" he repeated, and something niggled at his memory. "What do you mean hormones?"

"From the—" she stopped, staring, a distinctly uncomfortable expression surfacing.

"From the what?" he said.

"She didn't tell you yet?" she asked.

"Tell me what?" he said, the pressure in his mind increasing. "Tell me what?" he repeated, but he was starting to realize what Trubel was trying not to say.

Hormones. Adalind's expression when he had told her about his dream, that look on her face. Guilt and fear.

"She's pregnant?"

But that didn't seem right. Maybe it would explain her irritability now, but something seemed off. She would have told him. If she was pregnant, he would know by now, he was sure of it. Which meant—

"She didn't tell you," Trubel said resignedly.

"She _was_ pregnant?" he guessed, but he knew. He just knew. "She was pregnant. How—how did—she lost the baby?" But of course, she must have, because if she hadn't he would know. Wouldn't he? But his mind kept going back to her expression when he told her about dreaming she was pregnant.

"I dreamt of her," he said, and Trubel frowned, not following. "I dreamt she was pregnant," he said softly.

"Maybe you heard her," Trubel offered and Nick glanced up. "She said she told you she was pregnant. You were unconscious at the time, but maybe some part of you heard her."

He nodded, feeling hollow. "Why didn't she tell me? Now?"

"I think she was scared," Trubel said and Nick snapped his eyes back to her. "I mean, I really don't know, but she was so upset, after she came to—"

"Came to?" he said in alarm, heart pounding and he was reminded the stress probably wasn't good for him, but he ignored it. "Came to? She passed out? What happened? Did something happen with the baby?"

"Stress, or nerves, she had some migraine or something and she passed out, but just for a few minutes," Trubel said quickly at Nick's expression, "and I guess, from what Rosalee said—"

"Rosalee?" he snapped. "Rosalee knows about this?"

"Well, yeah, we're the ones that found her," Trubel said.

"Found her? No one was with her?"

"You were, I mean, she passed out in your room. I guess she'd been having some pain, and some cramping, and she just dismissed it as worry over you and that was—she was—she had a miscarriage."

"She never told me," he said after a long moment. "About being pregnant. About losing the baby."

Obviously.

"I'm sorry. I'm sure she didn't want to cause you to worry. She was so scared you'd still slip away from her, even after you regained consciousness. You don't understand how terrified she is she's going to lose you."

So terrified she made herself sick with worry and lost their baby?

"Was she hurt? You said she was—she was in pain?"

"I guess, I don't know, I mean, from what I understand the doctor said it was normal, I mean, Nick I really don't know."

"Does Rosalee?"

"Nick, this is really something between you and Adalind. I shouldn't have said anything. She'll be pissed at me," Trubel said morosely. "She was pissed at Eve for spilling the beans, anyway."

"Eve knew?" Nick exclaimed, breathing heavily as he tried to gather his breath.

"She detected it. Probably some weird Hexenbiest ability," and Nick recalled Adalind tell him that Henrietta had been the one to tell her she was pregnant with Kelly.

"What was Eve doing with Adalind?" he asked.

"Trying to help you," Trubel defended, "in her own, Eve-like way."

"I dreamt of you," he said suddenly, recollecting a vision of Trubel sitting beside his bed. "You were sitting beside my bed, talking to me."

"I sat with you for a while," Trubel confirmed.

"Maybe it wasn't a dream," he said, more to himself. "Maybe it was real. All of it."

He met Trubel's confused face. "I dreamt of Adalind, and my mother, and my aunt. And Adalind's mother," he clarified and her face remained scrunched for a few moments before it brightened.

"That's weird, because after Adalind came to she told us she dreamt of your mother, and your aunt Marie, the one you told me about? and her mother," Trubel said.

"What?"

"Yeah, she said they were all there and they were all trying to help you. And—and there was something Adalind said her mother was trying to tell her, about the cure, that they needed to add this—"

"Saisei shimasu," Nick cut in.

"Yeah, that they needed to add that to the antidote to save you. Holy crap, how weird is that?"

Holy crap was right.

"I saw my mother," he said, realizing. "I saw my mother, my aunt. They were really there. It was real," he said.

"Nick you were unconscious. They're all dead—"

"No, it was real," he insisted. "Somehow, Adalind saw it, too."

"Okay," Trubel agreed, clearly just saying what he wanted to hear.

"The Verfluchte Zwillingsschwester," he snapped suddenly, breathing hard.

"Okay," she said again, but she looked unsettled. "Okay, that's weird," she began, "because Adalind compared the headache she had to whatever it was you guys experienced with that."

"Oh, god," he said. They had had one of those damned headaches and visions or whatever happened. That was how she had seen his mother, Marie, and her mother. Because Nick was seeing them. Somehow, they'd swapped places, realities, and she'd been able to communicate with the dead through him. His dead family and hers.

Christ, it was preposterous, and he shook his head. They hadn't had one of those in years and he thought hard, trying to remember, if it had been real, what had happened to cause it.

He frowned again as something occurred to him. That connection, however tenuous and explosive, had given her the information necessary to save him.

She _had_ saved him, but at a steep price.

They'd lost their baby.

"Is she—is she okay?" Nick asked, but of course she wasn't. He couldn't imagine Adalind being okay with losing a child, especially their child. She had had to soldier on with it, afraid she would lose her husband too, before it was all said and done and she had, he reflected, however briefly. He thought of her behavior ever since he had regained consciousness, since he had come home, and knew that she had been trying to avoid him.

"I think you need to talk to her, this is—this is out of my element," and Nick nodded, feeling drained from the emotions pressing in on him. Christ, he'd only been upright for barely an hour.

"I'm tired," he said after an awkward silence, hating to admit it, but needing to get away. Be alone and process this.

"Nick, are you okay?"

"Yeah. I think I'm going to go back to bed."

"I shouldn't—I wish I hadn't said anything."

"It's okay. It's not your fault."

"It's not Adalind's fault."

"I know that," he snapped, but without any real heat. He felt numb. Disconnected.

"Need some help?"

"No, I've—I've got this," he said, shuffling slowly out of the kitchen.

%%%%%%

"What are you doing?" Adalind demanded when she saw him. She was standing in the doorway of their bedroom, their _upstairs_ bedroom, she would point out, Kelly and Diana peaking around her to see what their mother was upset about.

"Waiting for you," he replied, arms crossed over his chest as he sat propped up in bed, and he uncrossed them as his children skidded around their mother and charged at him.

"Easy!" she yelped at them, concern high in her voice. "Don't jump on him!" but he managed to catch and deflect most of the impact as they bounced on the bed in their excitement. He pulled them close in his arms, a smile pulling at his lips, enjoying their enthusiastic hellos nonetheless.

"Daddy!" Diana breathed contentedly, and Kelly squirmed but didn't pull away as Nick held him tighter. It was late, later than the four hours Adalind had promised, and she looked worn out and defeated, though the sight of Nick had momentarily reinvigorated her with anger.

"How did you get up here?" she asked.

"The stairs," he replied blandly, or as blandly as one could while trying to catch his breath with each syllable and planted a kiss on each child's head.

"I've missed you guys," he told them and he was rewarded with Kelly's wide smile and Diana's sweet one.

"You climbed them?" Adalind exclaimed incredulously.

"No I levitated over them," and she glared crossly at his flip response. "Yes, I climbed them."

"Mommy, you shouldn't yell at Daddy, he's sick remember," Diana said quite seriously.

"That's true," Nick agreed and Adalind narrowed her eyes dangerously at him. "But, as I've told you many times, I'm getting better," he said to his children, planting another kiss on them, those his words were aimed at Adalind. Truthfully the climbing the stairs had nearly brought him to his proverbial (and literal) knees, and it had been hours ago. He had had to stop, twice, on his way up and shakily take a seat on a step, wheezing loudly, before he had been able to continue, and he had leaned heavily against the wall for nearly all of his ascent. He was amazed he hadn't attracted Trubel's attention with the efforts. Trubel hadn't been happy either, to find him upstairs, after a fretful search of the house when she found he wasn't in his bed in the den, and he still wasn't able to gasp enough breath to yell down.

Still, he raised his eyebrow challengingly back at his wife, Adalind's mouth setting in a thin line as she stared at him, before her attention turned to their children, ignoring him. They were clearly excited to see him up and about, relatively speaking, and she listened to their happy chatter, some of the stiffness leaving her body.

"I missed you," he added to them, to Adalind, thinking of everything she had gone through over the past three months, and her eyes flicked back to his, expression unreadable. "I wasn't going to spend another night away from you. I had enough in the hospital and these last few weeks," he said, and turned his attention back to Kelly who was trying to tell him something, loudly, aware he didn't have his father's full attention. He had missed them terribly. He held them close as Adalind watched him interact with his son and daughter, Nick feeling more like normal than he had in a long, long time, though he was exhausted and breathless from the effort of trying to appear there was nothing seriously wrong with him. After a few minutes, Adalind busied herself with straightening some things in the room, putting some laundry away, aggravation with him evident with each jerky move.

"Okay kids, daddy's had enough excitement for the evening," Adalind said after about fifteen minutes. "Time for bed," she announced and Nick nearly smiled at the whining that immediately followed. He had definitely missed it. Missed them, missed his wife. Missed his life.

She reached for Kelly, picking him up and setting him on the floor as Nick reluctantly released him, aware now of the dream, that had not been a dream, it seemed, and the fear that had gripped him at the thought of never seeing his boy again. His daughter, too, and he held Diana away from her mother for a moment, and kissed her.

"Night guys," he told them, "do as mommy tells you. I'll see you in the morning," he added, trying to be heard over their complaints, but his voice wasn't strong enough and he thought it got lost in the begging and pleading. He watched them go, Adalind leading them out of the room as she prepared them for baths and bed.

He had dozed off, he realized, while he had been waiting for her to return from getting the kids ready for the night, and he wondered if she even planned to, or if she would take the den bed he'd vacated downstairs, avoiding him as she had been for the last few weeks at home with him. He heard her, though, creep into the room with a tired sigh and she paused on her way to the bathroom when he sat up.

"I didn't mean to wake you," she said and Nick shook his head.

"You didn't," he assured, rubbing his eyes.

"Go back to sleep," she told him.

"I will when you come to bed," he replied.

"I'll just be a few minutes."

"I can wait."

She frowned and disappeared into the bathroom, and was gone for so long Nick wondered if she was trying to out-wait him but she finally rejoined him, shutting off the bathroom light and then the lamp on the nightstand next to him as she came around the bed to her side. He watched her, as though she might try to pull a trick and dart away at the last moment, not that he could do anything about it if she did. She was dressed in a cotton nightgown that fell gracefully across her supple curves and his eyes darted to her stomach, flat, as he had suspected, as he had known—no baby growing inside any longer. His eyes flicked up and found hers, as she settled into bed beside him, and she turned off the light beside her and the room was bathed into darkness.

He slid slowly down until he was flat against the mattress, Adalind lying stiffly beside him. He had been prepared to confront her, talk to her about the baby, but in the last glance he had seen the wariness and the overwhelming fatigue in her eyes and the words died in his throat. She had been running on empty for weeks now, trying to care for everyone in her family other than herself.

He laid there and listened to her breathe, even her breaths sounding angry and defeated.

"I'm sorry," he said haltingly.

"For what?" she replied tiredly, turning her head after a moment to look at him.

 _For worrying you. For almost dying. For dying and doing it not once, but making you go through it five times. For scaring the hell out of you and making you sick with worry. For being unable to help you get through something as awful as the loss of our baby when it happened, something I know you took hard, though you never let me see how badly you were hurting. For being an ungrateful ass and a difficult patient, after everything you've sacrificed for me._

"For everything," he said after a long moment and she didn't reply.

 _"_ I missed you, too," she said so softly after another lengthy silence he almost missed it and he rolled on his side to look at her. Her fingers hesitantly reached out to brush against his face and he slid closer, arm sliding possessively over her body as he pressed his mouth to her cheek, and her lips, before brushing against her temple. He tasted salty wetness there and his grip tightened, his hand nearly lingering against her stomach, before he made a conscious effort to move it.

She huffed a sigh, almost a sob, and he felt more hot tears brush against his face as he nuzzled against her.

"Adalind," he whispered.

"Trubel told me she told you," Adalind said after another long moment and he pulled back abruptly in surprise. "Are you mad?"

"Mad? Why would I be mad?" he said, bewildered, and she shook her head, more tears sliding down to her pillow.

"I'm sorry," she said, and Nick shook his head. "I meant to tell you about it, just not right now. Later, I swear, I just—I'm sorry."

"For what? Adalind, you didn't do anything wrong." She shook her head again, crying harder.

"I didn't—I know I should have taken better care of myself. I wasn't—the doctor said it wasn't anything I did necessarily, but they just say that to make you feel better. I know—I forgot to eat one day, and then I—"

"Adalind, shh," he said, pulling her close and she finally turned into him, gripping him tightly.

"I wanted to tell you, before—before you were in the hospital. I kept trying to think of some special way to tell you the news. I thought you'd be happy," she said, crying.

"I would have," he insisted, kissing her temple, her cheek. "It's okay," and she sobbed harder, shaking her head. "It's nothing you did, Adalind, or could have done to prevent it. Miscarriages happen," he said, thinking of Rosalee. "I just wish you hadn't had to go through it without me," he told her, pulling her tight against him, pressing a kiss against her hair. The beautiful blonde, soft, silky hair he loved. He nuzzled against it, Adalind clinging to him.

"I'm so tired," she confessed shakily, "I can't sleep. I keep thinking about the—the baby, and you, and what happened."

"Shhh," he soothed. "I'm here, and I'm okay, Adalind. I will be, you need to believe that, it's just taking some time. The doctors don't know about Grimms and their physiology," and granted Nick didn't know a whole lot either. "I'm getting better every day I promise you. It's not just words," he said and he thought he felt her nod, his mouth against her head.

"And when I get better I'm going to make it my mission in life to knock you up," he added, and she huffed a surprised laugh and then choked on her breath, grief threatening to overwhelm her again. "We'll have another baby," he promised, hoping that fate wasn't cruel, that he could deliver on what he just said, that they would never know the grief and disappointment that Monroe and Rosalee knew.

They had Kelly, so even if he wasn't able to have another child with her, they never would know what it was like to not share such a unique bond as a child between them. They had Diana, too, though biologically, she was Renard's and not his. Maybe, it would have to be enough.

"I promise, we'll try for another baby, if that's what you want," he said. He felt her nod again, more definitively, after another hesitation.

"Someday," she said. "After you're better," and he nodded. She slipped an arm around his waist and Nick wrapped his arm over her head and around her as she curled up on her side, snuggled against him.

"Do you want to hear something incredible?" she asked him after a long moment.

"About you? I already know everything incredible about you," he said breathlessly, though he wished it was from romantic zeal and not cardiac apathy. "Intimately acquainted with several aspects, as a matter of fact."

"You'd better hold onto those memories, we're not doing that for a long time. The doctor says not to stress your heart," she reminded him stiffly. "We have to be very careful in your recovery. And it's not about me," she said. He suppressed a sigh.

"Sure," he said.

"Rosalee's pregnant," she said, and Nick paused his fingers through her hair.

"What?"

"She's just past twelve weeks," Adalind told him, raising her head to look at him. "She told me she and Monroe had decided to take a break from having a baby, and she must have got pregnant, right before…right before you went into the hospital. She made it through the first trimester, so that's a good sign," Adalind continued, looking down at his chest. "I'm happy for her," she said. "I don't know anyone else who deserves a baby as much as Monroe and Rosalee, or who wanted one more. It didn't seem fair," she said, laying her cheek against his chest again.

"What didn't?"

"I never wanted the baby with Diana," she said, and his fingers stilled. "I wanted my powers back, she was just a means to an end to get it. It's horrible," Adalind said, tearfully. "I never wanted to be a mother, but I loved her the moment I held her. I never planned on Kelly either, he was just the result of trying to hurt you, but I loved him too. I never really deserved to be a mother, but Rosalee…she deserved it and it's not fair it took her this long to experience it."

"You're a wonderful mother," he insisted.

"Thankfully," she retorted. "There was nothing in my upbringing that would ever indicate that. My own mother wasn't much of a sterling example. I probably learned more from your mom about being a mother, in the fourteen hours I spent with her than the twenty-some years with my own."

He ran his fingers through her hair, playing with the ends, before placing another kiss against her temple.

"I swear I'm going to knock you up, if it's the last thing I do."

"Don't say that," she snapped emotionally and he realized he had, in effect, done exactly that. Impregnated her and left her to wonder if she was going to have to raise it alone, before they had lost their baby.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm not going to leave you to raise our baby or our children alone. I'm going to make better decisions about our welfare," he promised. Adalind said nothing for a long time.

"I think you should transfer out the precinct," she said and his fingers stilled again.

"What?" he asked again.

"I don't think you should work with Sean Renard anymore."

"Adalind, you—are you serious?" he asked, pulling away to look at her.

"Yes," she said. "I don't want you to work for him anymore. He nearly got you killed. He did get you killed," she said, anger creeping into her voice.

"Adalind, I knew what I was getting into when Renard told me about Sudcliffe. I had a choice."

"No, you knew what Sean wanted you to know! And it cost you your life. You died, I lost our baby, my children lost their father," she said, getting louder and more emotional.

"Adalind, shh, you'll wake the kids, and I'm still here," he whispered, hands cupping her face.

"What the hell were you thinking?" She asked him, eyes big and blue and angry in the dim light from the balcony. "Why would you ever agree to that? Nick," she said, breaking down, and he recollected from the dream-not dream she knew about Sean dangling custody of Diana.

"I love you, you know that," he offered weakly. "I'd do anything for you," he said and she closed her eyes, shaking her head.

"You shouldn't have done that," she said, and Nick stroked his fingers across her cheek, the one Sudcliffe and Louis had broken over a year ago.

"It's done and I don't regret giving you your daughter back."

"Nick," she whispered brokenly, shaking her head.

"I'd do it again, it was the right decision, Adalind."

"You say you love me and you'd do anything for me?" she asked him, looking at him with those big blue eyes.

"Yeah," Nick said warily.

"Then transfer out of the precinct for me. I know you love police work, I wouldn't expect you to give up being a cop for me, and I know you can't stop being a Grimm, but transfer, maybe you can get something here, closer to home, and away from Sean."

"Adalind."

"Please, Nick. Why the hell did you agree to it? Why the hell did you go after Sudcliffe?" she asked him, eyes penetrating.

"He hurt you," he said, "and he was going to hurt others. He needed to be stopped, Adalind."

She shook her head.

"I can't stop being who I am, Adalind," and she shook her head again, and smiled bitterly. "I tried once before, with Juliette, and it just didn't work, and well, you saw how that turned out." He rubbed his thumb against her cheek lightly. "Don't ask me to choose," he whispered, terrified she would do just that and that he might not be able to make the right choice.

"I won't," she promised. "I won't make you give up that much of yourself, but please, Nick, think about transferring, for me," she pleaded, and he nodded slowly. "You can still be a cop. You can still be a Grimm," she added.

"If I don't?" Nick asked, and tears spilled over onto her cheeks, wetting Nick's fingers.

"I guess I still love you anyway," she said, sounding hopeless.

"I'll think about it," he said. "I promise." She nodded despondently, and Nick kissed her deeply, his heart aching with emotion. "Go to sleep," he told her, fingers sliding through her hair again, as she settled against his chest. "It'll be okay. We'll be okay."

%%%%%


	12. Chapter 12

AN: This is it; hope you have all enjoyed it as much as I've enjoyed sharing it with you.

%%%%%

Six months, and four days after being stabbed and injected with a poison that had killed him, repeatedly, Nick was back at work at the precinct.

It was light duty, restricted to his desk and a mountain of tedious, boring paperwork that surrounded him, for two more months, at least, but after everything he went through to get there he would take it. He still occasionally gasped for breath when he over exerted himself, the damned heart still slow to heal. Chasing after a suspect was impossible yet, without it ending in Nick doubled over wheezing desperately for air, but he could walk without panting, climb a set or two of stairs, and play with his children without collapsing.

After a barrage of medical tests, his doctor had agreed to only desk duty but he had been heartened by Nick's incredible progress and had confirmed after months of hemming and hawing that Nick's heart had, inexplicably, begun to repair itself.

Adalind had not been as enthusiastic. Still, she had watched him get ready quietly this morning, handing him his badge and holster with only a lengthy kiss and an admonishment to be careful. She had told him she loved him, his children had too, and their tight, scared embraces had reminded him again it was more now than just him to consider.

He remembered his promise to her, that he would consider transferring, and in truth, he had done that, thinking long and hard over the last few weeks of what he wanted to do, what he wanted to be, and his family. He had inquired as subtly as possible, and written a letter declaring his intent to transfer to the South Precinct, where he had come to the Central from originally, and where they had an opening for him, but he had yet to sign it or make any formal move.

He had missed Hank, and Wu's biting sarcasm and wit, and he felt he needed to offer a few words to them as to why he would be leaving, rather than let Renard spring the news on them. He grinned at the applause that greeted him when he set foot into the department and laughed at the _Welcome back!_ detritus surrounding his desk and covering his chair.

It felt good to be back, and he endured the good natured ribbing and pats on the back from his coworkers with a small smile before clearing off the cushion of his chair and taking a seat. Hank watched him, a smile playing at his lips at Nick's face.

"What?"

"Don't expect to be coddled by me," Hank said. "You kept claiming you were ready to be back and I'm not going to go easy on you."

"Bring it. The doctor cleared me for desk duty," Nick said, with a grin. Hank reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a three-inch stack of papers, and Nick's grin dimmed a little.

"Here you are," Hank said enthusiastically.

"What are those?" Nick asked warily, staring at the pile he beheld.

"Back log of notes, reports, witness statements, and evidence from the last four months," and Nick's expression soured further. Hank reached under his desk and pulled out a legal box, filled with more documents such as Hank was holding out to him, and gave it to Nick. "Good to have you back, partner," he said and dumped the stack on Nick's desk. Nick glanced at the other piles covering it.

"What are those?" he asked, indicating the various stacks.

"Your job for the next three months at least," Hank replied.

"I'm only restricted to light duty for two," Nick said.

"You'd better get cracking then," Hank said.

"Hank—Nick you're back!" Wu said enthusiastically, a smile gracing his face. "Good to see you, how are you feeling?"

"Good," Nick said, smiling. "Glad to be back."

"Glad to have you back," Wu said, before clearing his throat and continuing. "Hank we've got a body down at the Y," and Nick perked up.

"A body?" he repeated and Hank gave him a look.

"You've got all this paperwork," Hank reminded him and Nick frowned, watching as Hank grabbed his coat off the back of his chair and slipped it on. "Duty calls," Hank said. "Good to have you back, Nick."

%%%%%

Renard left him alone for the first few hours, and Nick spent most of his morning acknowledging the well-wishes of fellow coworkers who stopped by, and catching up on the eight hundred thirty-eight emails that filled his inbox. After the first fifty or so he had had to develop a new strategy. Two hundred emails in, he was seriously considering deleting everything and starting fresh. If it was truly that important, they'd call him, or they would have found someone else, right? He had just highlighted the remaining emails to be deleted when Renard opened his door and called for him. Nick sat back with a sigh and stood.

Nick glanced at the captain as he held his office door open for Nick.

"You wanted to see me?" Nick said briskly as he stepped into Renard's office.

"Have a seat," Renard said, and Nick debated on standing anyway, but reluctantly took a chair.

"How are you feeling?" he asked Nick, taking a seat behind his desk and Nick shrugged.

"Fine," he said, "Doctor cleared me for light duty."

"I read the release," Renard said. "I've also heard from a Captain Jerome Peterson, down at the South district. I understand he runs it," Renard said, looking at Nick carefully.

Crap, he had hoped Captain Peterson would give him more time, or be more discreet.

"I understand you're looking to transfer out of this precinct?" Renard asked him coolly, and Nick nodded.

"Why?" Renard asked.

"I need to make better decisions with my welfare and how it affects my family," Nick said stiffly. "It would be in their best interest if I made some changes."

"Your family," Renard repeated and Nick's brows merged together in annoyance. "Is this something Adalind wants you to do?"

"So what if it is? She's my wife. What I do affects her, and I need to remember it's not just me anymore. I have a wife and two children who depend on me. I need to limit the amount of unnecessary risk I take."

"You're a cop, and a Grimm," Renard returned. "I'm not sure how much risk you think you can limit. You're better off here, where people know and understand what you are and are aware of the inherent dangers that come with someone like you."

"Someone like me?" Nick echoed.

"I know of Captain Peterson. He's a good man, but he's Kehrseite. He's not going to be able to protect you like I have," Renard continued.

"Protect me?" Nick repeated, a dangerous edge to his voice.

"We've done a lot of good work here, together, Nick. You and Hank and Wu have made incredible breaks in cases. Have you told them about your plans?"

"I was going to," Nick said. "They were called out on a murder."

"Hmm," Renard said. "Are you sure you've thought this through enough?"

"Yes," Nick snapped. "I have." He had thought of nothing else for weeks. "I worked for the South before, they remember me," he said. "I still have some connections there," he added. "I did some good work there."

"Your record was exemplary," Renard agreed. "Which was why you were promoted to detective here. They knew you before," Renard said, and Nick realized he was referring to before he had found out he was a Grimm.

"So what? I'm still a good detective. Hank and Wu didn't know for a while either, and I still solved cases."

"Yes, but I knew," Renard said, shaking his head. "You really intend to petition to transfer?" he asked Nick and Nick frowned.

"I've got the letter on my desk, I can go get it if you need it," and Renard shook his head again.

"There's no need," he said. "Petition to transfer denied."

"What?" Nick exclaimed, standing suddenly. Renard eyed him carefully.

"You're staying at central," Renard repeated.

Adalind would be furious.

Surprisingly, Nick was furious.

All along he had told himself he was doing it for her, to make her happy and show her how much he loved her, to make some concessions in his life that showed she mattered to him, but he realized he had truly wanted to do it, accepted it as a necessary change he needed to make. She was right, his alliance with Renard, however tenuous, was dangerous. He could never fully trust Renard, and instead of waiting for the knife to stab him in the back, or the stachelig qualle to stab him in the torso, it was best to cut his losses now and move on. Renard was dangerous, and his only alliance was to himself. So long as Nick served to help him then they would remain on uneasy footing, but Nick realized he couldn't continue that way, not with Adalind and Diana and Kelly depending on him. It was dangerous enough, his life as a Grimm, without a scheming, power hungry royal interfering with it.

"You think you can keep me here?" Nick said angrily.

"Whether you stay here or not is up to you. I am, however, denying your transfer to the South Precinct. Do you want to give Captain Peterson my regards, or I shall I just pick up the phone and tell him myself?"

"Fine, there's an opening in the Northwest," he said, though it had been in Internal Affairs, and given the scrutiny he had received from the FBI three separate times, he hadn't been optimistic about landing it.

"Denied," Renard replied flatly.

"You asshole," Nick hissed, eyes narrowing and Renard's narrowed slightly, too.

"You're a damn good detective, Nick. I'm not just going to give away one of my best assets when we're on the brink of a war I guarantee you Captain Peterson has no clue about."

"Asset," Nick retorted bitterly. "The same asset you set up to be left for dead?" Nick asked him and Renard sharpened his gaze.

"What?"

"How did Sudcliffe know to be there?" Nick asked him. "Awfully convenient, him being there. I mean, everyone had been trying to find him for months, and twice within weeks we encounter each other. The first time—it was accidental. He wasn't expecting it, but the last time…I've been over it, and over it, and over it, and it just doesn't make sense, what happened, unless someone tipped him off. Who else knew I was going to be there but you. You set me up," he said.

Renard stared at him, face expressionless.

"I didn't do that. You got in that mess because you left your back up," he countered.

"Jesus," Nick breathed. "You set me up," he said again, not really shocked, but, still, incredulous. "I nearly died. I did die," he said. "I put my wife and family through hell. You put them through hell," he said.

"I didn't do anything, and I didn't want what happened to you, Nick. And I'm not responsible for what happened to you. And I can't keep it from happening again if you're working another precinct."

Nick scoffed loudly. "Sure you can, you can let me go. Approve my transfer and we can let bygones be bygones. I'll go my way, and you can go yours," Nick told him, and Renard tipped his head slightly in acknowledgment.

"Transfer denied."

Nick's jaw tightened.

"You're right, you can't make it up to me. And you know what? You didn't even keep it from happening the first time."

%%%%%

"How was your first day back?" Adalind asked him when she got home.

"Fine," Nick replied shortly.

"Well it doesn't sound fine. What happened?"

He was sitting at the table, going over his options, making a list of pros and cons. Adalind glanced at his worksheet and squinted.

"What's that?"

"A list," Nick said, a depressingly short one, he thought, taking a pull from his beer, and Adalind's eyes narrowed in on his drink and she twisted her mouth in disapproval.

"You're not supposed to be drinking alcohol. The doctor specifically stated that on your don'ts," she said and Nick took another swig and glared back defiantly. "If you're not going to take your recovery seriously," she said snappishly, moving away from him in irritation and disappointment.

"I'm taking it seriously," he shouted, waving a hand around him, to indicate everything he'd been doing since he'd regained consciousness all those months ago, and she turned to look at him.

"Stop yelling. Where are the kids?"

"Upstairs," he said, and she glanced above them before looking back at Nick.

"What happened?" she said again, taking the beer away from him. Nick let her, having had all of three sips from it, which included the two she witnessed.

"My request for transfer was denied," he informed her.

"What?" she said, leaning against the table.

"My transfer was denied," he repeated, going back to his list.

"You asked Renard for a transfer?" she said, sounding surprised. "Where? The Northwest?"

"No, the South, where I started," Nick said. "Though he denied my transfer to the NW, too."

She stared at him and Nick looked down, running his fingers through his hair.

"I don't have a lot of options," he said, pointing to his list with his pen, and Adalind moved to lean over him, to see what he was looking at.

"We could move someplace else," he said, pointing to one. He pointed to another. "I could quit the force entirely. The Wall has always wanted me," he told her. "And they pay well," he said, another plus, he thought, adding it to the pros.

Adalind snatched the paper away, crumpling it up, before changing her mind and smoothing it out and tearing it into pieces instead.

"Nick, no," she said. "I don't want you to quit. You love being a detective. I love you being a detective. The Wall, the Wall would be worse," she said, though, not much. She shook her head slightly.

"What?"

"I guess I didn't actually expect you to do it," she said. "What I was asking, it wasn't fair. You love working with Hank and Wu and the others."

"I love you," he countered. "What you were asking…it was right, it's what I need to do for our family. Especially if we want to add to it," he said, looking at her, and she frowned.

"I don't want you to quit and join Hadrian's Wall."

"So we'll move," Nick said. For the third time in as many years. "We can put the house up for sale and I can get on in Seattle, or maybe even San Francisco, or someplace close. I mean, it doesn't have to be someplace far away, right?"

"Nick," she said, "I don't want you to quit the police force here, just to please me. What I was asking, it wasn't fair," she said again. "I'm not even sure it's smart," she added with a sigh, and he sat back in his chair, looking at her in surprise.

"What?"

"It's enough that you took it seriously, what I said, but I don't want to see you unhappy because of something I demanded of you. I've been the reason enough that you've been unhappy in your life. I love Hank and Wu, and Rosalee, and all our friends too. If we moved, we'd be giving them up. Rosalee's due to have the baby in a couple of months and I promised her I would be there to help; the way she was for me."

"What? What about working for Renard?" She sighed.

"I _don't_ trust Sean," she said. "I never will. I've known him too long and too well to think anything he does is entirely altruistic. He's all about his own gain, and I know whatever he did it was for exactly that no matter what he claims. He was responsible for nearly taking you away from me for good. I'm never going to forgive him for that, and I'd prefer the less contact you had with each other, the better. That being said... if anybody's going to knock him on his ass it's you. If he's trying to get his hands into whatever is going on, maybe you need to be close enough to keep an eye on him. I just don't want you to do it by yourself. I don't ever want to go through what I did ever again, but there's no guarantee I won't even if you're not under his command anymore. Maybe you'll be at even more risk, because no one will know what you are. I trust Monroe, and Hank and Wu and Trubel and…and even, maybe, Eve to watch your back to keep you safe, at least, because they love you as much as I do."

"What you were asking," he said, grabbing her wrist and pulling her to him. "It wasn't some great big sacrifice." He pulled her down into his lap. "I was actually mad for myself when he denied the transfer, not because it would mean disappointing you, though, yeah, that was part of it. I love you, and I love our family. You guys are the most important thing to me, not police work, not Grimm work. You and Kelly and Diana. This one here, too, if we ever get started," he said, palm against her abdomen.

"Nick," she said, and he shushed her with a quick kiss on her mouth. "But I hear what you're saying," he said, turning serious.

"Good, then it's settled. We're staying put in Portland," she said, trying to escape his grasp but he held her tight.

"And I guess I'm staying put at Central. You're sure?"

"Yes, no secrets though," she said to him and he nodded. "I mean it."

"Promise," he said, crossing his fingers over his heart. "Speaking of promises," he added, pulling her close, lips nibbling against her cheek. "I seem to recall another one I made about knocking you up. I think it's time I made good on that, don't you?"

"Nick," she said, with a laugh. "It's too early to be thinking about that. The doctor said—"

"The doctor said sex is back on the table," Nick interrupted, "provided we don't get too freaky."

"I think we should take it slow and be careful. You've just gone back to work, it's a lot for your body to adjust to. We have plenty of time ahead of us we can do that."

"I spent most of the day going through emails and organizing my stacks of paper. Stacks. Plural." Nick said. "The only thing that was possibly overtaxed was my eyes. And I agree, we should be slow and careful, and thorough. Definitely thorough," he said, sliding his hand between her thighs.

"Nick!" she said squirming. "The kids are upstairs playing."

"Good, so mommy and daddy can be downstairs playing." His mouth found the spot behind her ear that made her gasp and squirm and he was rewarded with both.

"Nick!" she gasped and he smiled. "Stop," she said, fighting against him, a note of command in her voice, and he released her. She scrambled from his lap.

"It's too soon for that," she said. "I need to make dinner, and the kids need to have their baths, and I have some depositions I need to go over, and you should probably call it an early night, you've had a busy day, too." He watched her babble as she quickly moved away from him, his brows merging together in consternation.

"I need to start planning Rosalee's baby shower, too, I had some ideas, and I may, god, I need to start planning Kelly's birthday party. It's coming up in a couple of months. I need to start getting some things down on paper and start making preparations. I have a lot to do. I'm sure you do, too." She said with an apologetic smile and said, "another day or two waiting won't hurt."

%%%%%

After four more "another days," it became clear she was stalling, but Nick wasn't sure why. Perhaps she was nervous about miscarrying again, he reasoned, should she become pregnant, so he backed off and focused on work for a while and once he did Adalind calmed down considerably. He spent time over the next couple of weeks with Monroe, helping him put together some things for the nursery and found himself struck by what he could only classify as baby fever.

Which was insane, because, unlike Monroe, he knew exactly what having a baby entailed. The crying, the feeding, the waking, the endless diaper changing, the crying, the sleepless nights, the fear and the worry, the days and nights spent feeling like a zombie, going through the motions of your day because a tiny being had taken over your whole life.

Yet he couldn't stop thinking about another child, how Adalind would look full and round, carrying his baby. He tried to remember how she had looked when she had been expecting Kelly, but he had been trying to grasp the concept of her _having_ his baby than to really take note of her appearance, other than the incriminating baby bump, which seemed especially large and damning back then. He recalled the feel of Kelly kicking, though, remembered that distinctly, and he longed to feel the sensation again. Every time he saw Rosalee he thought of Adalind pregnant, he thought of their baby, and he slowly worked himself into a frenzy, the fact he was thirty-seven now, and fast approaching forty weighing heavily in his mind. Soon he would be too old to have children, he reasoned, too old to enjoy them and it seemed imperative to start trying as soon as possible. It might be months, maybe even a year or more before they got pregnant.

Kelly's third birthday came and went, planned to perfection by Adalind and Nick watched his son as he played with several of the children from the daycare, laughing and smiling and running about like a little crazy person. He spied his daughter eyeing the festivities, and he hefted her up, her parahuman nature making her ability to relate to others much more difficult. Having friends was difficult, though she had found a couple of other little girls she liked to spend time with. She would outgrow them, within months, already looking more like a nine-year-old than the six-year-old she had been just last year, and Nick thought again about a conversation he and Adalind had, about more drastic measures to slow, or even suppress her powers, maybe even permanently.

"How's my girl," he asked her, and her thin little arms looped around his neck.

"Fine," she said, still eyeing Kelly.

"Just fine?" he asked, tickling her with the rough edges of his stubble. She wrinkled her nose and pulled away before tucking her head against him.

"Yeah," she said with a sigh, and he suppressed one also at her obvious unhappiness.

"You sure? You don't seem very fine," he told her, placing a kiss on her forehead. He caught sight of Adalind, her worried look when she noticed him carrying her daughter in his arms. He wasn't supposed to be doing a lot of extraneous lifting, and Adalind tended to think Diana was getting too big to be picked up, but she was small and petite like her mother, and he'd never build up his endurance if he didn't start training again. They were vulnerable, his family and him, as long as he stayed weak. He had convinced Monroe to start a pretty grueling training regimen with him next week, to get him back into fighting shape. Carrying his daughter across the room, it was just the first step to getting back.

"I wish I was like Kelly," she said quietly after a moment.

"How do you mean?" he asked her.

"I wish I was normal," she said, "then everyone would like me."

"Who doesn't like you? I love you, mommy loves you, Kelly loves you, aunt Rosalee and Uncle Monroe, they all love you just the way you are," Nick said, and she shook her head.

"That's because you have to," she said dismissively.

"Oh," Nick said, "I just thought it was because you were my beautiful, special little girl."

"I don't want to be special," she snapped loudly, and Adalind turned her attention back to them. "I want to be normal," her eyes ringing with an electric lilac glow.

"Okay," Nick agreed, trying to calm her.

"How come Kelly's not special?"

"Who says he's not?" Nick asked her.

"He's not like me," she said, looking at him.

"No, he's not," Nick agreed, "that doesn't mean he's not special in his own way. You're both unique," Nick said.

"I want to be normal," she reiterated, Adalind joining them after stepping away from her conversation. Her eyes flicked from Nick to her daughter, and Nick shook his head slightly.

"Do you think aunt Rosalee will still like me after the baby comes?"

"Of course," Nick said, "why wouldn't she?"

"She'll just be busy for a little while," Adalind told her. "Babies are a lot of work."

"Did you want me after you had Kelly?" she asked them.

"Of course," Adalind replied, hands reaching for her daughter and Nick transferred the weight carefully to her mother. Adalind sat against a bench along the wall, Diana straddling her lap, facing her. Nick took a seat beside her.

"Really?" Diana replied disbelievingly.

"I came and got you, didn't I?" Nick retorted in mock anger. "Stormed the Wall, just as your mother demanded. It wasn't because I had to," he added, aware of the paradoxical statement. "Brought you home to live with us, and I haven't regretted it a day since."

"How about you? Did you want us?" Nick asked her and Diana nodded her head vigorously, Adalind smiling. "Kelly, too?" She nodded again, after a moment of hesitation, before a wide grin split her face.

"You like being a big sister, don't you?" Adalind said affectionately, placing a kiss on Diana's cheek and she nodded.

"You like having a little brother?" Nick asked her.

"No," she said. "Maybe."

"Would you like having another little brother? Or maybe a little sister?" he asked her and Adalind looked at him in alarm.

"Nick!" she hissed.

Diana stared at him, thinking and nodded again after a moment. "Yeah."

"Hm," Nick said, meeting his wife's eye. "Well, we'll have to get to working on that," he said.

%%%%%

"You shouldn't have said that to Diana," Adalind told him later that night when they were getting ready for bed. It was late, the kids wired from cake, and punch, and too much activity and sweets. Kelly had finally ran out of fuel and fallen asleep an hour ago, Diana had only settled into bed fifteen minutes ago, and both Adalind and Nick were looking forward to turning in for the night after a day spent with preschoolers.

"What?"

"About a little brother or sister," she said.

"Why? We're thinking of having another one, aren't we, so maybe we should start preparing her. Actually the one we need to start getting ready is Kelly," Nick said, as an afterthought. "He always has a harder time with change. Can you imagine him with a little brother or sister?" Nick asked with smile.

"Nick," Adalind said.

"What?" he asked annoyed, and she shook her head and slipped under the covers, turning off the lamp next to her. Nick joined her, but left his on, his attention turned to his wife and unraveling the mystery of why they appeared to want another child but lacked the desire to make it happen.

"You don't want a baby?" he asked her, the thought suddenly occurring to him that maybe she had changed her mind. "I thought you wanted a baby," he said.

"I do. Of course, I do, but really there's no rush," she said, opening her eyes for a moment, as she settled on her side away from him.

"You know you have to have sex in order to get pregnant," he said, and she twisted her head around to look at him in annoyance.

"Wow, really? I wish I had known that two kids ago," she said, tetchy.

"So what's the problem?" he asked her.

"Why are you in such a hurry to have a baby?" she asked him. "We have plenty of time yet."

"Because I'm thirty-seven," he told her. "I'll be almost thirty-eight by the time the baby is born, assuming we get pregnant right away. I'm not getting any younger. In a few years I might not even be able to have children," he told her. She rolled over and looked at him.

"Why? Your sperm all plan on protesting, or all just suddenly taking a leave of absence once you turn the big four-oh? Do they have an expiration date I'm not aware of? You know there are men in their sixties having children, right?" she said rolling her eyes.

"I don't want to be in my sixties still having children," Nick said, and she shook her head and closed her eyes.

"Well, thank god, since I'm not hopeful about giving you a child then, either."

"You're not getting any younger either," he added, and she opened them again and glared at him.

"I still have plenty of child-bearing years left," she sniffed, which was true, she was four years younger than him, though privately she worried about waiting too long, too. The doctor's words, that parents who became pregnant over the age of thirty-five were at higher risk for chromosomal abnormalities and miscarriage still resonated loudly. She worried that maybe they would never become pregnant.

Most of all she worried about having sex with a man who a few months ago didn't even rate consideration for a new heart on the transplant list.

He looked like Nick, he sounded like Nick, and every day, he acted more and more like the Nick she had known and loved, but every time she closed her eyes she could see him lying on that bed, ventilator tube down his throat, the hiss of air as it breathed for him, a dozen machines hooked up to him, as he lay clinging to life. She could remember the breathlessness as he tried to talk, how difficult it was for him to sit up, then to walk, to climb the stairs to their bedroom.

 _His heart gave out. It happens._ Christ, how could she have been so flip, all those years ago? Her words to Nick about Hank all those years ago, haunting her. _His heart gave out. It happens._ It could happen to Nick. She wasn't convinced the doctor had any real idea of what he was dealing with, since he had no idea about Grimms and Wesen and their physiology.

"I think you'll look beautiful, carrying my baby," he said, looking her over, sounding turned on by the idea, and he leaned over her and pressed a kiss against her shoulder.

"I'll look fat and dumpy. My skin turns all blotchy when I'm pregnant, too," she countered, not opening her eyes.

"You weren't fat and dumpy with Kelly," he replied, sliding his hand over her.

"You actually remember that?" she asked him.

"A little," he defended. "You were basically the same size you are now except you had one of those cute baby bumps," he added.

"You thought it was cute?" she asked twisting around to look at him again, staring at him disbelievingly. "Not horrifying and irrefutable proof of what we had done?"

"No," he said. "Not entirely." Though, yes, mostly.

She gave him another look.

"Fine, maybe I did, at first." He had calmed down though within a couple of days of staring at the irrefutable proof, concerned enough with an attempt on her life, that her well-being, and that of their child, mattered more than continuing to focus on the strange turn his life had taken and the damning accusation her swollen stomach made.

"Uh-huh," she said in the same tone as before and turned back to her pillow.

"You were still beautiful," he said, "I remember that, I just…I never thought of you as anything other than an enemy so I never allowed myself to think of how beautiful you were, how sexy you looked in those heels and that dress, carrying my baby inside you. How it might feel to hold you and touch you."

"Hmm," she said noncommittally.

"I've never made love to a pregnant woman before," he added.

"Good to know."

He sighed loudly. She maintained her composure, still trying to go to sleep, lying on her side away from him. He stared at her, trying to figure her out, before a finger carded through the hair on her head.

"Are you scared something will happen with the baby?" Nick asked her, and slipped his arm around her again and pulled her close. She opened her eyes and stared at the wall in front of her.

"I know it's a risk," he said quietly.

"It is," she agreed, and Nick placed a kiss against her shoulder.

"I'm not going to let you go through it by yourself," he promised. "Whatever happens."

She nodded, feeling her eyes burn.

"Is that all you're scared of?" he asked her.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I sense you trying to put me off whenever I get close or want to get intimate with you. It's been months since we've made love. I miss my wife. Even if it's not baby-making sex, I still miss being able to show you how much I love you, the way you make me feel when you're loving me." He kissed the back of her neck, and she shivered. He swept her hair aside and placed warm kisses along neck and shoulder. "I'm not going to break, if that's what you're so worried about," he added, and she stiffened involuntarily. He pulled away, noticing her reaction.

"Adalind," he said in gentle voice. "I'm better, I promise. The doctor said it was okay for us to resume having sex. He had me do a stress test and everything. I'm not going to die from having sex with you," he said. "However, there's been clear medical evidence I might if I don't," he added. "Remember the whole fundraiser thing?"

"Yes, and if nothing else, that showed you'll say anything if you think it will make me give in." She rolled over onto her back and gave him a look.

"True," he admitted, "but it also doesn't change the fact that what I said is true." He pressed his mouth over hers, and she felt her body respond. She opened her mouth hesitantly and he deepened the kiss. She had missed him, had missed his touch, she thought, running her fingers through his hair, enjoying his mouth against hers, his hands, the warm press of his body. He slid his hand up her thigh, pulling her nightgown up with her. She stared back at him, wanting to trust what he was saying, but terrified to risk it, to risk him.

"We can go slow," Nick said, looking at her, recognizing the fear there, and she nodded, feeling her body start to tingle as his hand slid higher, and dipped between her thighs. "And we can stop if you feel uncomfortable, or you're worried about me, okay?"

"Okay," she whispered, mouth finding his again, and she closed her eyes and enjoyed the feel of him for a moment before they broke away, and he continued.

"But I'm going to be okay, and if we finish…I'm going to be more than okay," he added, and his hand moved up to pull her strap off her shoulder.

%%%%%


End file.
